#he hates not knowing the answer to something
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tears [rafe cameron]
pairing - rafe cameron x reader
summary - rafe was a busy man. but, when his girl knocked on the doors of tannyhill with tears streaming down her cheeks—nothing was more important than her. and he’d fix whatever was bothering her. or whoever. he hated to see his girl cry.
warnings - none rlly, hurt/comfort, protective and attentive rafe
rafe sighed into his phone call when he heard a knock on the door. he stood in his father’s office—which was now his—pacing the room.
“hey, hey man, just hang on a sec, sorry.” he muttered to the potential investor before he put him on hold. he set his phone down on the desk and marched out of the office, curses and mumbles leaving his lips.
“somebody always fuckin’ needs something.” his hand rubs over his buzzed hair as his other hand curls in and out of a fist at his side. “goddamn. probably fuckin’ sarah and her stupid—“
his mumbles come to a halt when he opens the door and sees his girl standing there, tears staining her flushed cheeks. “rafe..” she whispers weakly, her frame shaking as she looks up at him.
“hey, hey, baby.” he says quickly, completely forgetting the phone call waiting for him as all his attention, worry, and concern is shifted to her. “what’s wrong, c’mere.”
his hand reaches for her wrist, pulling her into his chest. she lets out a quiet sob as she buries her face into his chest, stepping inside. he haphazardly pushes the door shut as he keeps her close to his chest and walks them both inside and through the foyer.
he whispers shh’s, and coos at her in his arms as he heads for the living room, sitting them both down. he softly pulls her from his chest, his head dipping down to her level. his hands come to her cheeks, wiping the tears off her soft skin.
“hey, baby, what happened? talk to me.” he says, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.
“i-i-“ she stammers, unable to get words out as she chokes on cries. her breathing quickens, getting close to hyperventilating. when she cries, she goes too fast, losing control of her breathing.
“hey, hey, no. don’t do that. c’mon baby, you know better. breathe, baby, breathe.”
she begins to slow down, her breathing coming back to normal. she keeps her eyes on rafe’s, slowly calming down.
“there ya go. atta’ girl. good job. breathe.” he praises, his head nodding softly as he watches her. once her breathing fully calms, she takes one last deep breath and wipes the last of her tears.
“now, gonna tell me what’s got your pretty little head so worried, hm?” he coos, his head tilting slightly. “what’s bothering you? who do i have to kill, huh?” he jokes with a grin. but to be honest—he probably wasn’t joking.
she sniffles, her eyebrows furrowing. “my uterus.” she whines. “i’m on my period. my cramps hurt like a bitch. and my mom is pissing me off.” she sniffles, stumbling over her words slightly. “and i’m hungry. and you weren’t answering, i know you’re busy. but i just really needed to see you, i’m sorry—“
“hey, hey, it’s okay.” he nods softly. “i’m here, it’s alright. i’m not busy, doesn’t matter.” he says matter-of-factly. he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. “what do you need? hm? i have that heating pad in my room i bought for you a couple months ago.” he whispers sweetly. “i can make you somethin? buy you stuff? i dunno, what do you need?”
he was willing to do anything, he didn’t care. when his baby cried, he’d move mountains to make her feel better. he’d go to every store in town, run up his credit card, do anything. as long as she got a smile on her face at the end of it.
she nods against his chest, looking up at him. “yeah.. the heating pad. and—and can you make me a grilled cheese? you make em’ so good.” she asks sweetly, her voice gentle and weak.
he smiles softly, looking down at the sweet girl in his arms. “yeah, baby, of course. i don’t know if they’re that good. everytime i make them, you’re usually drunk and it’s three in the morning. that might be why they taste so good.” he jokes.
she shoves his chest playfully. “i don’t care, you can’t fuck up a grilled cheese. please?”
he grins. “yeah, yeah. grilled cheese, heating pad. got it, baby. anything else?” he says thoughtfully, his fingers coming to push strands of hair off from where they stick to her tear strained cheeks.
she shakes her head. “just you.”
he smiles. “okay.” he kisses her forehead. “i’ll be right back, gimmie a few minutes to get all that.” he stands, making sure she’s laid comfortably on the couch. he grabs the blanket from the end of the couch and drapes it over her. his eyes search the living room, landing in the remote, he hands it to her.
he leans down, placing another kiss to her cheek this time. “put on whatever you want. i’ll be back, promise.”
he leaves her at the couch and heads back to the office. he picks up his phone and takes it off hold. “hey, gotta go. somethin’ came up. i’ll give you a call later.” he hung up before the guy could even get a word in.
nothing came before his girl.
#rafe cameron#obx fic#rafe obx#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#protective rafe#outerbanks rafe#drew starkey#drew starkey imagine
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in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.
being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.
fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.
until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.
rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.
all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”
there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.
“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.
unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”
“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.
a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”
“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”
“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“
he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.
it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”
you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”
the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”
“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”
“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.
“you hate sarah,”
“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”
“…this is weird, rafe,”
“how?” he asks.
“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”
“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”
“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”
“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”
“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“
“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”
he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.
you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”
rafe just smiles.
#౨ৎ isa writes#NOT PROOFREAD#this is bad sowwy#obx#outer banks#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron prompt#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x you#exbf!rafe
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Enchant me - P.S
P: Ravenclaw!Sunghoon X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive Content, Angst, Sunghoon is kinda mean (not to you), Academic Rivalry, Tension, Fluff, Teasing, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Newt Scamander Mention!!
Synopsis: You’ve always found yourself in competition with Park Sunghoon, a brilliant Ravenclaw who seemed to have it all—intelligence, charm, and ambition. Whether it was academic duels or playful banter, he was always your rival. Yet, the only thing he truly wanted was you.
Wordcount: + 30k ( i know.. im sorry)
a/n: yall strap in for this one.. (heeseung is the last one that will be posted soon :) if yall wanna see more of the hogwarts au let me know!
masterlist
--
You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when you started being an overachiever in your studies. It was a gradual thing, a slow shift that snuck up on you and became part of who you were. When you received your letter to Hogwarts, you were ecstatic—absolutely thrilled by the thought of magic, the possibility of flying, the enchantment of potions, and the spells. But then you saw the material and you knew right away that in order to succeed, you had to study.
But it didn’t stop there. As you poured yourself into your work, absorbed every bit of information, you started to realize something else—something that fueled you even more. Praise. Recognition. House points. The feeling of achievement after every successful spell or potion, the way other students came to you for help. It was intoxicating. The more you learned, the more respect you gained, and you could feel your status growing. It was simple math, really: hard work plus success equals recognition. And you thrived on it.
Soon enough, you became known as one of the top students at Hogwarts, the one everyone turned to when they needed help or advice. And you liked it. You liked the feeling of being ahead, of being the best at something. You liked the way professors praised you, the way your name carried weight when spoken in hallways. You’d earned this position. You deserved it.
But, of course, you weren’t the only one who excelled. There were others, too, students who worked just as hard as you did. And you were fine with it. You respected them; they respected you. It wasn’t about competition—it was about mutual recognition.
Then there was Park Sunghoon.
He was a quiet Ravenclaw, one who kept to himself for the most part, except when he was in class. That’s when everything changed. He had a way of standing out without even trying—his answers sharp, his insight keen, his mind quick. Every time you thought you had the answer, Sunghoon was already there, raising his hand or blurting it out in that effortless, nonchalant way. And every single time, your chest tightened, your stomach dropped. He was always just a step ahead of you, and you hated it.
But what really made your blood boil wasn’t just that he outperformed you—it was the way he did it. The way he would always, always look at you with that damn smirk. That teasing, almost mocking expression, as if he knew exactly what it did to you. As if he relished in it. Every time he answered a question before you, every time he earned praise or house points, he would glance over at you, eyes glinting, that smug smile never leaving his face. It wasn’t just a simple exchange of competition. It was personal. It was deliberate. And it drove you mad.
It didn’t help that Park Sunghoon was everything you hated and everything you secretly admired. He was smart—impossibly smart. His resourcefulness in class was unmatched, and every time he spoke, it felt like he had all the answers. And on top of all that, he was tall, handsome, with perfectly styled hair that never seemed to fall out of place, his Ravenclaw robes always crisp and neat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t catch yourself staring at him sometimes, trying to pretend you weren’t affected by how effortlessly he seemed to glide through life. He was always polished, always put together, and you hated how good he looked doing it.
It only made things worse when you started realizing that you were developing feelings for him. A crush, despite everything. Despite the way he ignored others, brushing them off like they were nothing, like they were dust clinging to his perfect robes. You couldn’t help it. He was attractive, there was no denying that. But it wasn’t just that—it was the way he held himself. The prefect badge on his chest always gleaming, always sparkling. The way he moved through the castle with an air of authority, a quiet power that seemed to command the attention of everyone in the room.
If Sunghoon deemed you as beneath him, he wouldn’t hesitate to let you know it—not directly, of course. No, that would be too obvious. Instead, he would treat you like one of the ghosts haunting Hogwarts, barely sparing you a glance, letting his indifference cut deeper than words ever could. You’d watch him glide past students who tried to catch his attention, their hopeful faces falling as he brushed them off without a second thought. His expression would remain blank, that neutral, almost cruel face he reserved for people he deemed unworthy of his time.
And the moments when he was forced to acknowledge someone? That’s when his sharp, silver tongue came out. You’d witnessed him being cold and dismissive, shutting down anyone who dared to push their luck. He had a way of saying just the right thing to make people feel small, a razor-edged wit that cut through even the bravest students, leaving them stammering, unsure of what they’d done wrong. It was subtle, and he was never outright rude—just dismissive enough to make it sting.
And yet, you couldn’t shake the crush. You hated it. You hated him. But the more he teased, the more you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him.
And you wouldn’t dare to say you liked Sunghoon—not in the way one might admit to having a crush, at least. No, liking him wasn’t even an option. If anything, you tolerated him on your best days, pushed yourself to ignore the smug expressions and the subtle, condescending way he would respond to you in class. And on the worst days? You found yourself actively ignoring him. Because nothing seemed to satisfy Sunghoon more than bringing others down to elevate himself.
When someone dared to voice an answer he deemed beneath his own standards, you’d see it: the slight narrowing of his eyes, the subtle twist of his lips. He’d wait, just a beat, before stepping in to “correct” them, his tone laced with just enough contempt to make it clear who the “real” intellect in the room was. And somehow, he managed to do it all without outright insulting anyone. His comments were surgical, precise, his criticism delivered with a calm, cold detachment that only made it sting more. It made you question him, wonder why he seemed so determined to keep everyone beneath him.
But what frustrated you most was his selective charm. You’d watch him laugh and chat easily with other high-ranking students, his demeanor suddenly pleasant, even civil. He’d converse with them like they were equals, never the hint of a condescending smirk, no belittling glances. And in front of professors? Sunghoon transformed entirely. He was the picture of the ideal student, humble, deferential, offering polished responses that seemed designed to earn him a rare smile or a nod of approval. The teachers couldn’t seem to get enough of him.
You couldn’t wrap your head around it. His calculated, chameleon-like behavior left you wondering, time and time again, why he had ended up in Ravenclaw and not Slytherin. After all, he possessed every quality they prized: cunning, ambition, a nearly ruthless drive to succeed. It was like he wore a Ravenclaw uniform, but underneath, his nature seemed more like that of a Slytherin than anything else.
And perhaps, deep down, that was what unsettled you most about him—that he seemed to wear a mask depending on who he was with.
It frustrated you, intrigued you, and, despite yourself, drew you in.
So, you had learned to keep your distance from Sunghoon, to wear a mask of indifference around him. A poker face. Neutral. Unmoved. It became second nature, the way you could shut down your emotions whenever he entered the room, the way you refused to show any weakness in his presence. If you didn’t give him anything, you reasoned, he’d get bored of you eventually. He’d move on, as he did with everyone else. You figured, if you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, he’d leave you alone.
But now, reflecting on it, you realized that might have been the wrong choice. Because it didn’t matter how little you engaged with him. Sunghoon had a way of finding you. It was like he had a radar, some silent pull that always seemed to zero in on you during the day. And when he did, that was it. You had his full attention. Not a passing glance, not an idle comment. Sunghoon would fix his gaze on you, like a hawk locking onto its prey, his focus unyielding. It wasn’t an accidental glance; it was deliberate. Every moment, every word, every action seemed like it was a calculated move to engage with you, to get your attention—whether you wanted it or not.
If you were anyone else, if you were just a normal student, you might’ve gushed about it, maybe even bragged to your friends. After all, who wouldn’t want the attention of someone like Sunghoon? The handsome, accomplished, and charming prefect. But you weren’t anyone else. You weren’t lesser. You knew exactly why he sought you out—and it wasn’t because of some secret admiration.
He saw you as competition. You were an obstacle in his path to greatness. The two of you were always near the top of the class, always neck-and-neck, and he wasn’t about to let someone else get ahead of him. You knew that much. He probably had plans of his own—dreams of becoming an Auror, or securing some high-ranking position in the Ministry of Magic. He wasn’t going to let anyone stand in his way. And you were the one standing there, blocking his path. He had to prove he was better, that he was the best. It was almost… inevitable.
But deep down, you started to realize that there was something more to it than that. Sunghoon wasn’t just focused on outshining you academically. No. You had started to see the little things—the moments when his eyes lingered a little too long, the rare flicker of something deeper in his expression when he caught you in the hall or across a classroom.
And it made you question: was there more to how he saw you than just another obstacle? Were you something else entirely?
You first started to figure it out years ago, back when you were in fourth year and the two of you shared a few classes. It was the first time you’d really noticed Sunghoon, in Astronomy class, of all places. You had been excited for that class, you had always been fascinated by space, by the endless expanse of stars and the way the moon seemed to shift and change. As a child, you’d spent countless hours lying on the grass, gazing up at the sky, watching the constellations dance. You hadn’t thought twice about taking the class, certain you’d excel.
But you weren’t the only one eager to impress the professor. No, there was another student who seemed just as invested, answering questions with ease, his knowledge sharp and quick. You’d expected some competition, sure—but it was the way he answered, the confidence with which he spoke, that made you take notice.
It was Sunghoon.
You could see it in his eyes, the surprise that mirrored your own. The realization that you weren’t just any ordinary student—no, you were just as capable, just as quick-witted as he was. And that’s when it clicked: you weren’t just another student to him. You were a challenge.
After class, you’d been making your way out of the room, mind already spinning with the next lesson. But then you’d turned a corner and found yourself face-to-face with him, Sunghoon standing in the hallway like he was waiting for you. You hadn’t expected it, not at all.
“Impressive,” he’d said, raising an eyebrow. “You always this good with the material?”
You’d been taken aback, not quite sure how to respond, but something in his tone made you pause. At that point you weren’t used to students, especially not someone like him, complimenting your intellect outright. And yet, there was something sharp about his words, something that made you feel like this wasn’t just casual admiration.
“Of course,” you replied, instinctively meeting his challenge. “It’s not that difficult once you understand the basics.”
Sunghoon gave a smirk that only seemed to intensify the challenge. “So,” he began, crossing his arms. “If you’re as clever as you say, what’s the difference between the Confundus Charm and the Misdirection Hex?”
You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed but entertained. “Easy. The Confundus Charm affects the mind, creating confusion and distorting a person’s perception, whereas the Misdirection Hex only creates a temporary distraction without altering any mental clarity.”
Sunghoon nodded, clearly expecting that you’d know the answer but not missing a beat. “Fair enough. How about this one—” he leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting, “if you were to brew Amortentia, what’s the critical ingredient that activates the potion’s scent signature?”
You didn’t even flinch. “Moonstone. It’s the key to personalizing the scent and creating that pull, that... sense of longing,” you replied, a trace of smugness in your voice. “Now my turn.”
You watched him closely, his expression unchanging, as you asked, “What’s the main difference between Episkey and Vulnera Sanentur?”
Sunghoon’s gaze narrowed. “Episkey is a basic healing charm that works for minor injuries—usually cuts or bruises. Vulnera Sanentur, on the other hand, is far more advanced, and it actually seals major wounds, specifically stopping blood flow and beginning tissue repair.”
You smiled, only a little disappointed that he got it right. “Well done, Park,” you replied, crossing your arms.
But he wasn’t done yet. With a slight tilt of his head, he said, “If you’re so good, tell me, what’s the incantation for a Hot-Air Charm, and when would it be used?”
“Calidus Aero,” you replied easily, rolling your eyes. “And it’s used to produce a continuous flow of warm air. Good for drying things—or keeping people warm.”
There was a slight twitch of his lips, as if he were amused that you’d added the last bit. “Impressive. But let’s see how you handle this one,” he continued, looking pleased. “What’s the effect of adding powdered Runespoor eggs to a Memory Potion?”
You paused for only a moment, narrowing your eyes at him. “It sharpens the recall and clarity of recent memories, but it also makes them harder to alter or distort after the fact,” you replied, watching him carefully. “A good trick for Aurors needing airtight evidence in trials.”
There was a flicker of surprise in his expression, though he tried to hide it. “Not bad,” he admitted, a trace of a smile showing. “Looks like you know your potions.” He shifted, almost as if he’d found the whole exchange too easy. Then he gave you a look—calculated and challenging. “One more. What’s the wand movement for the Incarcerous spell, and what’s the incantation variation that makes the conjured ropes fireproof?”
You tried not to show that this one caught you off guard. “The wand movement for Incarcerous is a firm downward flick, followed by a counterclockwise twirl,” you said carefully, a smirk forming as you gained confidence. “And the fireproof variation is Ignus Incarcerous.”
Sunghoon let out a low chuckle, a little begrudging, but impressed all the same.
You’d hoped that after that, he’d leave it at that, yet, as you turned to leave, you felt his gaze on your back. And before you could walk away, he stopped you. You had expected something snide, maybe a remark about how you’d bested him, or how you were too proud. Instead, he spoke, his voice smooth, almost teasing.
“You’re… smarter than I expected.” There was a pause, and then he’d added, “In fact, you’re pretty impressive.”
You had frozen, not sure what to make of it. But then came the twist: the way he said it, the slight upturn of his lips, the almost flirtatious edge to his words. It caught you off guard.
You had been prepared for rivalry, for sharp competition, but not for that. Not for him to suddenly flirt with you. The change in his tone, the way his words softened, made you feel uneasy, but also... intrigued.
You hadn’t known how to respond, but all you could do was walk away, your mind racing. Sunghoon—Park Sunghoon—had just complimented you with the kind of look that made your heart beat a little faster, even though you told yourself you hated him.
You had barely made it a few steps when you heard him call out, his voice smooth and teasing, like a final jab in a match you hadn’t realized was over.
“Not bad at all,” Sunghoon said, the faintest hint of a smirk curling at his lips, his tone dipping slightly, as if it were more of a challenge than a compliment. “Nice to know there’s someone around here who can keep up.”
For a moment, your pulse quickened. You wanted to respond, to throw a witty retort back at him. But you couldn’t find the words—because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much that one line had affected you.
Instead, you just stopped. You didn’t turn around, not fully, but you allowed yourself one quick glance over your shoulder.
Sunghoon was standing there, looking perfectly composed, his hands tucked casually behind him, his eyes following you with that unreadable look. The smirk remained, but there was something different about it now—less arrogant, more knowing. Almost like he was waiting for you to react, as if this small exchange was part of some game he wasn’t finished playing yet.
Without a word, you turned back around and continued walking, your steps brisk, your mind swirling.
--
You didn’t usually talk to Sunghoon outside of class—there was never much reason to. Your friend groups didn’t overlap, and both of you had your own routines, different paths to follow. But somehow, that didn’t stop him. No, every chance he got, Sunghoon would find a way to cross paths with you. He’d come up to you before classes, lean against a wall, and throw in some teasing remark about the next lesson or slyly compliment you on your latest academic achievement. It was almost like clockwork.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the star student,” he said, his tone playful but sharp. “Bet you’ve already memorized the entire textbook for today’s lesson, haven’t you?”
You rolled your eyes, not even breaking your stride. “You’re the one who’s obsessed with keeping up with every lesson, Sunghoon. I’m just trying to avoid getting bored.”
He chuckled, pushing off from the door and walking alongside you. “Right, because you’re totally not the type to get caught up in the thrill of perfect grades.” His eyes twinkled with a mixture of admiration and challenge. “I guess I’ll just have to make sure you don’t make it too easy for yourself.”
You smirked back, not missing a beat. “You’re right, I don’t like making things easy,” you said dryly. “But I’m sure you’re just trying to keep me on my toes, aren’t you, Sunghoon?”
He shrugged with a grin. “I’m just keeping things interesting. Besides, I have a reputation to uphold.”
Another time, just before Transfiguration, you found him leaning against a pillar, twirling his wand with a practiced ease, his gaze catching yours as you approached.
“So, tell me, have you figured out the secret to getting Transfiguration perfect every time, or do you just have some magic trick up your sleeve?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.
You answered, not at all phased. “I think you’d be more impressed if you actually paid attention during class instead of just showing off your wand skills, Sunghoon.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh, I pay attention. But I’m just more interested in seeing if you can stay on top of everything. Don’t want to make it too easy for you, right?”
“You wouldn’t know what to do without a challenge, would you?” you shot back, giving him a sideways glance.
“You’re right,” he said, his grin widening. “And it’s not every day I get to challenge someone like you.”
And alas every day, just before classes, there he was, making some comment that practically demanded a response. You’d either fire back a witty remark of your own or just give him a deadpan look, as if you couldn’t be bothered. And yet, he’d show up again the next day, and the cycle would repeat. It was a routine you both seemed to have unconsciously built into your days. Neither of you ever missed it, both being somewhat meticulous about perfect attendance.
At some point, you realized it was strange. You noticed that he never spoke to anyone else in quite the same way. No other girl at Hogwarts seemed to have the so-called privilege of Sunghoon’s attention, and it confused you beyond belief. It didn’t make sense—he was smart, popular, handsome. And yet, he’d somehow decided that teasing you was worth his time.
It wasn’t until one late afternoon in the library that the thought came to a head. You were tutoring one of your Hufflepuff friends, helping her brush up on Transfiguration, when she looked at you with a knowing smile and just dropped it on you.
“I think Sunghoon likes you,” she said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
You laughed it off immediately, shaking your head. “That’s not possible. Sunghoon only likes people if they can help him get more house points,” you replied. “Why would he like me?”
Your friend just shrugged, that same smile still on her face. “You’re the only person he talks to like that,” she pointed out. “It’s like he’s constantly finding an excuse to be around you.”
You tried to ignore it, brush it off as one of her theories. But later, when you were alone, you couldn’t shake her words from your mind. You thought back to every interaction you’d seen between Sunghoon and other students, particularly girls. The more you thought about it, the more you realized it was true: you’d never once seen him act the same way around another girl. In fact, you couldn’t remember him ever dating anyone. Despite the whispers in the corridors and the way some girls openly admired him, he never seemed interested. No, you’d seen him reject more of them than you could count.
But with you... things were different.
You didn’t know what to make of it. Sunghoon had always been that one puzzle you couldn’t solve. He was unpredictable, throwing in little remarks as if he’d calculated your every reaction.
If he did like you, it would mean something you hadn’t prepared for. It would mean you’d been wrong about him—or, at least, about why he kept coming back to you.
Maybe that was why you found yourself in the library a little later than usual, searching for one specific book. The library was quieter than it had been all day, with only a handful of students still scattered between the rows of shelves, their heads buried in their books. Madam Pince was busy sorting through a stack of newly returned books at the far end of the room, so you figured you’d have some peace and quiet to yourself.
You’d been meaning to find this particular book for a while. The only problem was that you hadn’t seen it in the library for months. The last time you’d seen it, it had caught your eye when one of your Gryffindor friends had been flipping through its pages in the common room. You hadn’t been able to get a good look at it, but now, as you found it tucked away in the far corner, you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.
You pulled the book off the shelf carefully, balancing it in your hands as you climbed down the ladder. The title read “Figuring and Tackling Your Feelings.” It was something about sorting through emotions, a guide that, frankly, seemed more like it belonged in the realm of self-help than anything academic. You weren’t sure why it had piqued your interest so much, but you were eager to take a closer look, especially now with everything on your mind.
Before you could fully inspect the cover, a voice came from behind you, low and familiar.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” Sunghoon’s voice cut through the silence of the library like a knife.
You jumped, startled, spinning around instinctively to hide the book behind your back. Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to regain your composure. There he stood, leaning casually against a nearby shelf, eyes already trained on you with that signature smirk of his.
“What are you doing here, Sunghoon?” you asked, your tone betraying the sudden flurry of nerves. You couldn’t help it. The last thing you needed right now was for him to get a glimpse of what you were holding.
“Me? Oh, nothing,” he said with a shrug, his eyes flicking to the book behind your back. “But you, on the other hand… reading ahead, are we?”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s none of your business,” you said quickly, trying to keep your voice steady.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that so?” His steps were slow and deliberate as he moved closer to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You know, it’s not like you to hide books behind your back. What’s got you so secretive?”
Before you could stop him, his hand darted toward the book, attempting to grab it from behind your back. Reflexively, you twisted away, turning just enough so that he couldn’t get his hands on it. You managed to get a better grip on the book, but Sunghoon wasn’t backing off. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the little game.
“Oh no, you don’t,” you muttered, trying to hold the book out of his reach. “Stop trying to grab it.”
Sunghoon just grinned, his gaze never leaving the book. “Come on, just let me see it. You know, I always find it fascinating when people start acting so mysterious about things.”
You twirled around again, moving just a little faster than him this time, keeping the book hidden behind you. The book’s cover was almost too easy to read from his angle, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d noticed the title.
“Why are you so curious about what I’m reading?” you shot back, hoping the question would throw him off balance.
His grin widened. “Maybe I just like seeing how you react. You’ve always been so… poised. I wonder if there’s more to you than the perfect student.” His voice dropped a little, a note of challenge creeping in. “Come on, just give it to me. You’re not that afraid of a little friendly competition, are you?”
You felt your cheeks flush slightly, the teasing getting to you. “It’s not about competition,” you muttered, taking another step back to keep the book away from his prying fingers. “Just… drop it, alright?”
His eyes flickered to the book once more, then back to you. “Fine, fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “But you’re really not going to let me see what you’re reading? You’re too mysterious for your own good.”
You exhaled, trying to calm your racing heart as you finally straightened up, no longer trying to keep it hidden. “It’s just a book. Nothing important.”
He tilted his head, eyeing you with that all-too-knowing look. “Uh-huh,” he said, clearly unconvinced.
And with that, he turned and strolled away, his footsteps echoing softly through the nearly empty library.
You let out a long breath, the book still in your hands, but your mind now racing in a way it hadn’t been before. Why had you reacted like that? What was it about Sunghoon’s teasing that got under your skin so easily?
You couldn’t shake the feeling that Sunghoon had seen right through you—like he always did. As the library door closed behind you, you felt a strange sense of relief mixed with lingering unease. You hadn’t expected that interaction to leave you so rattled. It was just Sunghoon, right? Yet, there was something about his persistence, the way he kept pushing you, that had thrown you off balance.
The book was still tucked under your arm as you made your way out of the library and toward your common room. You tried to focus on the cool, quiet hallways of Hogwarts, the flickering torches lighting your path. The winding corridors, usually so familiar, now seemed almost too vast, too empty.
The sound of your footsteps echoed as you passed through the hallway, heading toward the familiar portrait that would let you into your common room. You had to hurry; curfew was close, and Madam Pince had already given you a warning for lingering too long in the library.
As you reached the entrance to your common room, you glanced over your shoulder, just in time to catch a shadow move in the corner of your vision. But when you turned fully, the hallway was empty, just the faint echo of your own footsteps following you.
You shrugged it off. You must have imagined it.
With a quick word, the portrait swung open, and you stepped inside, relieved to be back in the warmth of your common room.
Outside, beyond the walls of the common room, Sunghoon stood hidden in the shadows, leaning against a pillar just out of sight, watching you go. His eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary before he turned and slowly disappeared into the shadows. He walked through the dimly lit hallways, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet night. He hadn’t intended to follow you; it wasn’t some grand plan.
He’d tried to convince himself it was just curiosity—nothing more. After all, you were the only one who seemed to keep up with him in class. You challenged him, and that’s what he’d always thrived on.
And it was like he couldn’t not think about you. And that frustrated him.
He never expected you to be this… enigmatic. No one else had ever caught his attention like this—not like you did. It was a puzzle, one that didn’t make sense, and yet the more he tried to figure you out, the more complicated and captivating you became.
You had this effortless confidence, a sharp wit that matched his, but you weren’t like the other students he’d come across. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, not even him. There was something in your eyes when you’d deflect his teasing, a glimmer of something he couldn’t place. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting the way he expected, and that drove him mad.
Sunghoon pushed a hand through his hair, his thoughts tangled as he navigated the winding corridors of Hogwarts. He shouldn’t be thinking about you so much. There were other things to focus on—other students, other challenges, other ways to advance. Yet, every time he tried to shake it off, his mind would return to you.
How had you managed to enrapture him so effortlessly? He wasn’t the type of person to become so… fixated. Yet here he was, walking through the darkened halls, and all he could think about was you. You never played by the same rules as everyone else, and that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.
No. He couldn’t let himself get tangled up in this. You were a challenge, just like he’d always wanted. You were nothing more than that, right?
But even as he told himself this, Sunghoon couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else—something more—that was pulling him toward you.
--
You sat at your desk in Potions class, the scratch of your quill against parchment the only sound filling the otherwise quiet classroom. Snape’s voice droned on, but your mind kept drifting. You had hoped for a peaceful class today—one where you could focus on the lesson without the usual distractions. But of course, it didn’t take long for that hope to be dashed.
The seat next to you, which had been occupied by a nervous Hufflepuff just moments ago, was now filled by none other than Park Sunghoon.
You didn’t look up immediately when he sat down. You had caught the tail end of his glare directed at the Hufflepuff, whose wide eyes had flicked from Sunghoon’s cold stare to you in a silent plea. In an instant, the Hufflepuff had scurried off, leaving the seat beside you vacant for Sunghoon to claim.
A small sigh escaped your lips, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you focused on your notes, carefully copying the ingredients Snape was listing for the potion you were about to brew. You wouldn’t let him distract you, not this time. The class was important, and the competition was heating up, especially with exams just around the corner.
You could feel the subtle shift in the air with Sunghoon settled beside you. But today, he didn’t say anything. Not a word. He simply unpacked his books, setting them down with a quiet precision, and began his own notes. It was almost too quiet, too… calm. It was rare that he didn’t start a conversation, especially considering the usual banter you both shared.
The fact that he was acting so reserved, while sitting so close to you, made you all the more aware of the faint tension between you. It was like he was waiting for you to say something first. But you wouldn’t. Not this time.
You kept your focus on your parchment, the quill moving smoothly as you wrote. It was an exercise in patience, in ignoring the small things: the way his sleeve brushed yours as he leaned over to grab an ingredient, the soft rustling of his books as he turned pages. You didn’t let your mind wander. You wouldn’t.
Yet, no matter how much you tried to ignore him, you felt the pull of his presence, as if he were a magnet. You stole a glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He was scribbling down notes too, but there was something different about the way he held his quill, the way his eyes flicked to the board and then to the ingredients list. He was concentrating, but you knew it wasn’t just the potion he was thinking about.
The realization hit you a little too late: He was watching you.
Your quill faltered for just a second before you steadied it again, keeping your eyes on the board. You couldn’t ignore the small, almost imperceptible glance he threw at you from time to time. It was the kind of look that made you question whether he was as unfazed as he appeared—or if, like you, he was just trying to hold his composure.
The class ended bit too soon, but not before you felt that pull again. Before you could gather your things, Sunghoon stood up, his chair scraping the floor with a soft sound. He didn’t look at you as he walked away, but you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze linger on your back as you packed up your belongings.
--
The class was buzzing with quiet energy as Professor Snape swept into the room, his black robes billowing behind him as he made his way to the front. You could feel the usual hum of anticipation ripple through the classroom as he began with his first question, his gaze sharp and probing.
Without fail, Sunghoon was seated right beside you. He had strolled in at the last possible second and taken the empty seat before you could even think about moving. It was a position that had become an unspoken habit between the two of you—a silent agreement that this was where you would always sit, even if neither of you admitted it out loud.
“Who can tell me the primary function of wolfsbane in this potion?” Snape’s gaze swept across the class, but it settled almost immediately on you.
You raised your hand automatically, but just as you opened your mouth to answer, Sunghoon’s voice cut through the air. “The primary function of wolfsbane is to suppress the transformation of a werewolf. But specifically, in this potion, it’s used to temper the effects, making the potion safe for consumption by those with lycanthropic tendencies.”
Your jaw clenched, and you quickly chimed in, “That’s true, but wolfsbane’s reaction with belladonna is crucial to ensure the potion is actually effective. Otherwise, you risk a rapid breakdown of the ingredients, and the potion loses its potency within hours.”
A faint smirk played on Sunghoon’s lips as he turned slightly to face you, his eyes glinting with a mixture of challenge and amusement. “Of course,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear, “but that’s only if the brewer doesn’t know how to stabilize the reaction properly.”
“Oh, so you’re saying you know better than the author of ‘Potions for Practical Application’?” You raised an eyebrow, the hint of a challenge in your voice.
Snape’s voice sliced through your exchange. “If the two of you are quite finished,” he said dryly, “perhaps you’d like to enlighten the rest of the class.”
You both looked up, not missing the faint irritation in his expression. And yet, as he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, he seemed almost amused. If Snape enjoyed one thing in his classes, it was competent students—but if he enjoyed two things, it was watching competent students try to one-up each other.
With a quick glance at Sunghoon, you cleared your throat and addressed the rest of the class, your voice steady. “Wolfsbane, also known as aconite, stabilizes the transformation process. But the reason belladonna is needed in the mixture is because it counters the initial toxicity of the aconite.”
Sunghoon jumped in seamlessly, his tone smooth. “Exactly. Aconite alone could be harmful, but combined with the right ingredients, it actually makes the potion effective. Belladonna slows down the rate of the potion’s effect, balancing the intensity.”
You could see Snape’s eyes narrow just a fraction, clearly considering whether he’d allow this back-and-forth to continue. He hadn’t interrupted yet, though, and so you didn’t hold back.
“That only works, though,” you continued, “if the potion is brewed at precisely the right temperature. A variance of even one degree could cause the aconite to overpower the belladonna, which is why attention to detail is critical here.”
Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “True. But I’d argue that anyone who’s capable of brewing at an advanced level should be able to handle such minor details.” He cast a sideways glance at you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
You narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them. He was enjoying this far too much. “Perhaps. Though, as they say, perfectionists always notice the minor details others miss.”
“Implying I’m not a perfectionist?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His tone was light, but you could sense the competitive edge in it.
You shrugged, giving him a look of feigned innocence. “Just that you might not be as exacting as some of us.”
Before he could retort, Snape stepped in, his voice a mixture of impatience and reluctant amusement. “Miss Y/L/N. Mr. Park. While I am deeply fascinated by your thorough analysis, the class may benefit from a more structured approach.” He glanced around at the other students, who were watching you and Sunghoon with a mix of curiosity and amusement.
Your cheeks flushed as you turned back to your notes, feeling a rush of heat from Sunghoon’s lingering gaze. But Snape wasn’t done.
“In fact, why don’t you both demonstrate your understanding?” Snape gestured to the cauldron at the front of the room. “Brew the potion together. Let’s see if your theoretical knowledge holds up under practical application.”
You felt the tension shift as Sunghoon pushed himself up from his chair, casting a smirk in your direction. “Let’s see if you can keep up, then,” he murmured as he moved to the front.
Swallowing your nerves, you followed him, setting out the ingredients with practiced ease. As you worked, the rivalry simmered just beneath the surface. Sunghoon was methodical, careful with each step, yet he didn’t miss an opportunity to toss a teasing comment your way.
“Careful,” he said at one point, his voice low. “That’s a lot of aconite you’re adding there. Are you sure you’re not trying to mess up the potion to make a point?”
You shot him a look. “Maybe I just don’t trust you to brew this properly without a little oversight.”
His eyes glinted. “Funny, because I was about to say the same thing to you.”
The two of you continued in this vein, quietly exchanging barbs as you measured, stirred, and added ingredients with exacting precision.
When the potion was nearly complete, you both paused, watching as the liquid in the cauldron shifted from murky green to a smooth, midnight blue—the exact color it was supposed to be.
Sunghoon tilted his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not bad,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You met his gaze, a smirk of your own forming. “Could say the same to you.”
The rest of the class continued in much the same way, the tension between you and Sunghoon thick as you both remained locked in your rivalry. As Professor Snape continued his lesson, you and Sunghoon each made sure to answer his questions before the other could, each answer delivered with just enough confidence to imply you had known it all along.
Every now and then, you’d catch Sunghoon looking your way, a small, knowing smile on his face, as if he could read every thought running through your mind.
Just as you were jotting down notes on the final instructions for the potion, a Ravenclaw beside you leaned over. “Hey, Y/N,” she whispered, “can I borrow your notes from last week? I’m a bit behind.”
Before you could even respond, you noticed a shift beside you. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunghoon’s expression harden. His jaw clenched as he shot the Ravenclaw a sharp look, his gaze practically daring her to linger a moment longer.
She hesitated, glancing between you and Sunghoon before quickly saying, “You know what, never mind. I’ll, uh, figure it out.” With that, she scurried off, leaving you a bit bewildered.
You turned back to your notes, only to feel Sunghoon relax beside you, leaning back in his chair with a casual air as if nothing had happened. His expression softened, the subtle smirk you’d come to expect making its return. You rolled your eyes, not bothering to address it as you continued your notes. But before long, another student tried to approach.
This time, it was a Gryffindor who slipped you a folded note with a question on today’s potion. But before you could even open it, you noticed that same glint in Sunghoon’s eyes, like he was quietly measuring the other student’s worth. His glare was steely, his gaze intense enough that, once again, your classmate seemed to change their mind about talking to you at all. The Gryffindor muttered a quiet apology and quickly returned to their seat.
You couldn’t help but cast a sidelong glance at Sunghoon, raising an eyebrow at his now placid expression. He noticed and merely gave a slight shrug, as if to say he hadn’t done a thing. It was infuriatingly typical of him, acting as if he hadn’t just sent two students retreating.
“What’s your problem?” you whispered, leaning in slightly.
Sunghoon’s smirk deepened. “No problem. Just keeping distractions to a minimum.”
You scoffed, your irritation clear, but deep down, a part of you wondered why he even cared.
But then Snape’s voice cut through the room, calling for silence, and you both snapped back to attention, the rivalry and tension settling between you once more.
As you walked out of the dungeon, feeling the cool stone hallway stretch out in front of you, you were met by two Gryffindor students waiting just outside. They exchanged a glance, visibly relieved as you approached, and one of them quickly stepped forward.
“Hey, Y/N,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “We were wondering if you could maybe tutor us in Potions? We’re both, uh… struggling with it, to say the least.”
His friend nodded, looking equally sheepish. “Yeah, we could really use the help.”
Before you could answer, though, you felt a presence at your side. Sunghoon had followed you out, his usual calm but intense demeanor practically radiating as he watched the two Gryffindors. His gaze hardened, and he didn’t waste a second before stepping between you and them.
“You two really have nothing better to do than pester her?” he asked, his tone dismissive, his glare enough to make them visibly uncomfortable.
The Gryffindors exchanged glances, shuffling back slightly, but they didn’t say anything. They seemed intimidated, but they didn’t seem like they were about to give up so easily. You sighed, shooting Sunghoon an exasperated look.
“Sunghoon, relax,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You turned back to the two Gryffindors, who looked both embarrassed and desperate, and crossed your arms.
“Fine,” you told them, sighing. “Meet me in the library tomorrow. I’ll give you some pointers then.”
The two of them beamed, nodding quickly, and mumbled their thanks before heading off, leaving you alone with Sunghoon, who was still watching them as if they’d offended him personally.
As they turned the corner, Sunghoon glanced at you, a frown tugging at his lips. “You didn’t have to agree, you know,” he said, his tone more casual now, though there was still a trace of irritation. “They’re just looking for an easy answer.”
You gave him a look, shaking your head slightly. “Not everything is about competition, Sunghoon. Maybe they actually need help.”
He scoffed, a smirk curling at his lips. “Whatever you say. Are you coming, or are you too busy playing tutor?”
There was a brief moment of hesitation on your part. You hadn’t planned on sticking around with him after class, especially after his little standoff with your would-be students. But as his gaze settled on you, something about his expression—part expectant, part unreadable—made it hard to refuse.
With an exasperated roll of your eyes, you gave in. “Fine, lead the way.”
He smirked, clearly satisfied, and turned to walk down the hall. You fell into step beside him, the two of you moving together in silence.
Sunghoon led you through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, weaving up narrow staircases and into passages you were sure most students didn’t even know about. You were tempted to ask him what he was up to, but a strange, quiet curiosity kept you following him, even when you caught yourself glancing back, half-considering turning around. But you couldn’t deny your curiosity—and a reluctant trust in him, strange as it felt.
Finally, you reached a narrow staircase that led up to one of the less-frequented towers. “Here we are,” he said.
You stared at a latch, then at him. “What is this place?”
He didn’t answer immediately, instead climbing ahead of you, reaching up to open the concealed latch in the ceiling. With a glance down at you, he climbed up, disappearing through the opening.
You glanced around the empty hallway, biting your lip.
When he poked his head back down and raised an eyebrow. “Are you coming?” you sighed and climbed up after him, finding yourself in a tiny, dusty attic space. The room was cramped, with wooden beams crossing over the low ceiling and tiny, dusty windows letting in a dim glow. There wasn’t a sound in the air; no one ever came up here.
“What’s this about, Sunghoon?” you asked, crossing your arms, unable to keep a note of suspicion out of your voice. But he only smirked, taking your wrist and gently pulling you over to the corner of the room where a small wooden chest lay against the wall.
He lifted the lid, revealing a small creature nestled inside. You took a step closer, gasping softly as you recognized the little, dark-furred niffler, its leg twisted at an awkward angle, clearly hurt. You shot Sunghoon a surprised look, and he rubbed the back of his neck, almost sheepish.
“I, uh… I remembered you seemed to know a lot about magical creatures,” he said, his voice quieter, less sure than usual. “Saw it struggling outside the castle, and I thought… well, I figured you might know what to do with it.”
For a moment, you simply stared, taken aback by his unexpected gentleness. You knelt down beside the chest, assessing the niffler’s condition. “It looks like it twisted its leg pretty badly,” you murmured, brushing your fingers carefully over the creature’s fur as it whimpered, its small, dark eyes wide with trust and pain.
The niffler shivered, glancing up at you before letting out a soft chitter, its tiny paw reaching up to clutch your finger as you whispered calming words.
“It’s okay, little one,” you murmured, gently lifting the niffler into your arms. Sunghoon stepped back a little, allowing you space to work, and you couldn’t help but notice how quietly he was watching you, not saying a word.
You checked its leg, gently feeling around the injury. It wasn’t too severe, but it would need some attention. “The little guy will be okay. You just have to be careful with creatures like these—they can get skittish when they’re hurt.”
Sunghoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the niffler as you worked. You pulled out your wand, muttering the appropriate healing charms as you carefully mended its leg. The niffler let out a small chirp, its fur fluffing out in relief as it finally settled in your arms.
“You know,” Sunghoon said, breaking the silence, “I didn’t expect you to be so good with magical creatures.” You glanced up, meeting his gaze, which was unexpectedly warm, his usual guarded expression softened.
“Maybe there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you replied, a teasing lilt to your voice.
Sunghoon smiled faintly, watching as you wrapped the niffler’s leg with careful precision, almost as if seeing you in a new light. “Guess I’ll just have to keep finding excuses to learn, then,” he said.
With a final wave of your wand, the niffler’s leg was mended. Almost immediately, the little creature perked up, chirping happily as if testing out its newfound mobility. A small smile tugged at your lips as the niffler wobbled in your lap, nudging your hand before, quick as a flash, its tiny paw darted toward the shiny badge pinned on your robes.
“Hey!” you laughed, reaching for the niffler as it tugged at your prefect badge, determined to add it to whatever imaginary hoard it was building in its mind.
Sunghoon chuckled from where he stood, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze following the little creature’s antics. “Looks like it has a good eye for treasure,” he said, his tone playful. The niffler, clearly encouraged by his approval, squeaked and tugged harder, and you could only laugh as you tried to wrestle it gently away from your badge.
“Alright, alright, little troublemaker,” you said, scratching behind its ear, “I guess you’re all healed up.” The niffler chirped, clearly satisfied with itself, and settled back in your lap, peering up at you with big, curious eyes.
Sunghoon tilted his head, that faint smile still lingering. “You know, you have to name him now,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
You raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the niffler. “Name him? Isn’t he a bit too… mischievous to settle for a name?” But as you looked into its wide, shining eyes, you felt a tug of fondness you couldn’t quite ignore.
Sunghoon shrugged, his tone a bit lighter than usual. “Well, you can’t just heal him and leave him unnamed. Plus, he’ll probably come back to find you if you give him a name.”
You bit back a smile, glancing at the niffler again. “Alright, fine.” After a moment’s thought, you looked back up at Sunghoon, the beginnings of an idea forming. “What about Spark? Since he’s so keen on shiny things.”
Sunghoon’s eyes crinkled slightly as he considered it. “Spark,” he echoed thoughtfully, and then nodded. “I like it. Seems fitting, for a niffler that’s already made it his mission to steal from a Hogwarts prefect.”
The niffler—now dubbed Spark—chirped in approval, as if satisfied with his new name. He scrambled back onto your lap, one paw still reaching toward your badge, his nose twitching.
As you watched Spark dart playfully around the room, you looked at Sunghoon and nodded toward the door. “We should probably take him to Hagrid. He’ll know how to take care of a niffler better than we can.”
Sunghoon nodded, and with a final scratch behind Spark’s ear, you tucked the little creature into the crook of your arm. As you and Sunghoon quietly made your way down the tower’s staircase and through the darkened hallways, Spark scampered excitedly between the two of you, chirping and squeaking in delight. Every now and then, he’d jump from your shoulder to Sunghoon’s, nuzzling close and tugging at a stray lock of his hair.
When you finally stepped out onto the moonlit grounds, Spark scrambled up Sunghoon’s arm and settled atop his head, tugging at the strands as if trying to style his hair. Sunghoon rolled his eyes but didn’t make any real effort to dislodge him.
As you arrived at Hagrid’s hut, Sunghoon reached up to knock on the door, but Spark clung stubbornly to his head, chirping with the excitement of a mischievous child. Hagrid’s warm, booming voice called from inside, and a moment later, he opened the door, his eyes lighting up when he saw the small creature atop Sunghoon’s head.
“What in Merlin’s beard… is that a niffler on yer head, Sunghoon?” Hagrid’s laughter was deep and genuine as he looked between the two of you.
You couldn’t help but laugh as well, reaching up to grab Spark gently from Sunghoon’s head. As you tugged the niffler free, you couldn’t help but notice the state of Sunghoon’s hair—it was thoroughly mussed, thanks to Spark’s playful grasping. “We found him hurt,” you explained to Hagrid as you cradled Spark, who snuggled into your arms with a satisfied chirp. “We patched him up a bit, but we figured he’d be in better hands with you. Could you take care of him?”
Hagrid’s face softened as he looked at Spark, his expression a mixture of fondness and excitement. “Course, I’ll look after the little rascal. Nifflers can be tricky, but they got good hearts.” Beside him, Fang barked happily, his tail thumping against the ground as he trotted up to you.
Grinning, you crouched down, running your hands through Fang’s thick fur as he nuzzled your hand. “Hey, Fang! Missed you too, big guy,” you murmured, scratching him behind the ears. Fang let out a pleased rumble, leaning into your touch.
As Hagrid took Spark from your hands, the niffler let out a mournful little chirp, his dark eyes fixed on you and Sunghoon as if he already missed you. Hagrid chuckled, petting Spark’s head. “Looks like he’s taken quite the likin’ to you two! I reckon he’ll be a handful. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s well cared for.” With a wave, Hagrid gently closed the door, and you and Sunghoon turned back toward the castle.
Walking side by side through the quiet grounds, Sunghoon was still trying to tame his hair, grumbling softly as he ran his hands through it. Smiling, you reached out, gently pushing his hands away. “Let me,” you said softly, reaching up to smooth down his tousled locks.
Sunghoon was silent, watching you as you worked, and when you finally stepped back, satisfied, he looked at you with a softened expression. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice unusually quiet, his gaze lingering on you just a little longer than usual.
You lowered your hand, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze, the gentle night air cool against your cheeks. “You’re welcome,” you replied, glancing away as a faint warmth crept up your neck.
For a few steps, the two of you walked in comfortable silence, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet the only sound. The castle loomed ahead, its towers silhouetted against the dark, star-strewn sky.
“You know,” Sunghoon finally spoke, his voice low but warm, “you didn’t have to help with Spark back there. Could’ve just let me figure it out on my own.”
You scoffed lightly, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh, please. You’d have probably spent half the night just trying to get him off your head,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, I like helping out with creatures. It’s… peaceful.”
Sunghoon gave a soft chuckle, nodding. “Can’t argue with that. You’re a natural,” he added, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile. “I’ve never seen you like that before.”
“Like what?” You turned your head to look at him, slightly caught off guard by his tone.
“Soft. I mean, not that you’re… not usually. Just… different,” he mumbled, running a hand over his head again, his gaze darting to the side as if searching for words. “Maybe it’s nice to see you care about something.”
A quiet chuckle escaped your lips as you shoved your hands into your pockets, your steps slowing. “I care about things. Just not usually things that… require all that much attention.”
Sunghoon stopped, turning toward you, his gaze intense yet gentle. “Well, it seems you’ve got another talent to add to the list,” he said quietly. “Even if I don’t see this… soft side very often.”
You could feel your face warm under his stare, an unspoken understanding passing between you. “Well, maybe I’ll show it a bit more… if you promise to keep your teasing to a minimum,” you countered, smiling slightly.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Only some teasing,” he replied, but there was a warmth behind his usual smirk, a hint of something more.
As you reached the entrance to the castle, you both paused, lingering in the cool shadows of the towering walls. Neither of you seemed ready to break the quiet moment. Eventually, you took a breath, giving him a final look. “Goodnight, Sunghoon.”
He nodded, his eyes still on you. “Goodnight,” he replied softly.
The next day, the routine rivalry between you and Sunghoon was as intense as ever, starting with the very first class. Snape had just handed back a round of potion assignments, and as you flipped through your parchment, you smirked at the sight of your high score. But your satisfaction was short-lived; Sunghoon leaned back in his seat beside you, carelessly waving his own assignment in the air, flashing a score just a fraction higher than yours.
You shot him a look that was equal parts irritation and challenge. “I guess perfection just comes naturally to some,” he murmured, his smirk widening as he glanced at your page. You couldn’t stop your glare from hardening as you rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath.
Throughout the day, this pattern continued in every class. Whenever you scored higher, he’d fall silent, his eyes narrowed in a glare as he examined his own work with a slight pout. If he managed to get the higher score, you’d feel your face flush in annoyance, lips pressed into a thin line as you begrudgingly accepted the tiny triumph. Each question the teachers posed became a mini-battle between the two of you. If you answered first, Sunghoon would scoff and find some way to counter your response with an added detail or correction; if he answered first, you’d find a way to elaborate on it with an extra flourish.
Eventually, in Charms, your constant back-and-forth about the finer points of nonverbal spells escalated to a full-blown debate. You could feel the class’s eyes on you both as you threw arguments back and forth, neither willing to back down until the professor finally cut in, moving to the next topic with an exasperated sigh.
When classes finally ended, you found yourself surrounded by a few Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students, all hoping you’d tutor them in some area or another. But before any of them could get too close, Sunghoon would somehow find his way into the middle, stepping forward with a cool glare that would make them hesitate. Without even noticing his interference, you were too busy rambling to him about magical creatures, hardly noticing as students reluctantly slipped away.
“…And the phoenix? Did you know they have regeneration abilities not just for themselves but that their tears can heal practically anything? It’s almost like a superpower,” you said animatedly, your eyes lighting up as you explained.
Sunghoon’s small, genuine smile went unnoticed by you, his eyes studying your expressions as you spoke. “You know,” he said after a moment, “you really get lost when you’re talking about them.”
You shrugged, unfazed. “Why wouldn’t I? There’s so much to learn, so much to explore. Don’t you ever feel like that about anything?”
His smile grew softer, almost thoughtful. “Yeah… I think I do,” he said, not taking his eyes off you. But you were too caught up in your own excitement to notice the way he looked at you, as if he had found something worth exploring right here.
You barely noticed the way Sunghoon’s eyes softened as you went on about the different habitats of magical creatures, caught up in sharing the things you loved. He seemed entirely focused on you, even as the hallway grew emptier, his usual sharp edge melting into a quieter attentiveness that he rarely showed.
As you two walked, he seemed to subtly steer you, ensuring other students didn’t approach with requests or questions. The few who tried to interrupt received one of Sunghoon’s cool, silent glares, and it was enough to make them think twice. But his attention never wavered from you, and you barely noticed anyone else around.
“…So I’m hoping to go on expeditions one day,” you said with a small smile, glancing up at him as you walked. “I want to see these creatures in the wild and understand their behaviors.”
Sunghoon looked at you, his gaze warm yet intent. “You really mean that,” he murmured.
“Of course I do,” you replied, almost laughing. “I thought everyone knew that by now.”
His faint smile returned. “Maybe not everyone. But… I do.”
You blinked at the sudden seriousness in his tone, and for a moment, you were struck by the way he was looking at you—as if there was something he’d been meaning to say, something he was wrestling with. But as quickly as the moment surfaced, it was gone; he looked away, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “Guess I’ll have to find something just as impressive to match that.”
You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Good luck with that. You’ll have to work a lot harder to keep up.”
A smirk flashed across his face. “Challenge accepted,” he said quietly.
--
As you sat with the two Gryffindor students in the quiet corner of the library, the sunlight filtering through the high windows, you felt a sense of satisfaction in guiding them through the complexities of potions. They were both scrambling to keep up, flipping pages in their textbooks and frantically jotting down notes as you explained each component's properties and how they interacted.
After a moment, you paused to ask a question, gesturing to the list of ingredients for the Draught of Peace. “Which ingredient in this potion helps to reduce anxiety but can cause drowsiness in high doses?”
One of the boys squinted at his notes before raising his hand tentatively. “Um… powdered moonstone?”
You nodded, a small smile crossing your lips. “Exactly. Well done.”
He grinned, looking quite pleased with himself, then gave his friend a smug slap on the shoulder. “See? Told you I was getting the hang of this,” he boasted, earning an eye-roll from his friend.
“Don’t get too cocky,” you warned, a teasing edge to your voice. “One right answer doesn’t make you a Potions Master.”
He chuckled sheepishly, but it was clear he was still basking in your praise.
As the lesson went on, you glanced up for a moment, and your eyes caught sight of a familiar figure leaning against the edge of a nearby shelf: Sunghoon. He was watching the entire scene with his usual unreadable expression, arms crossed and a subtle smirk on his face, as if he found the whole situation amusing.
Rolling your eyes, you turned your focus back to the Gryffindors, deciding to ignore him. But despite your best efforts, you couldn’t shake the awareness of his gaze. The two Gryffindors seemed completely oblivious to Sunghoon’s presence, but every now and then, you caught him subtly stepping closer, listening in.
Finally, you finished your explanations, assigning them a few practice problems to work on in their own time. They thanked you, relief written on their faces as they gathered their things to leave.
As they left, Sunghoon sauntered over, raising an eyebrow at you. “You seem awfully generous with praise,” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Oh, don’t start,” you replied, rolling your eyes again as you closed your textbook. “I’m just trying to help them pass Potions. They don’t have to be my rivals.”
“Lucky for them,” he said, chuckling softly. Then he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, “But I’d like to think I’m the only one who gets to compete with you.”
You rolled your eyes and pulled out a worn notebook and a slightly tattered copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander from your bag, flipping to a page you had been absorbed in earlier. Your notes were meticulous and precise, with a small sketch of a selkie in the margin, its sleek form and dark eyes captured with surprising detail.
Sunghoon noticed immediately, his gaze drifting to the open book and your notes. He shifted his chair a little closer, leaning in to get a better look. "What’s all this?" he asked, clearly intrigued.
“Oh, just some of my own notes,” you replied casually, though you couldn’t deny the flicker of excitement at the chance to explain. “I’m copying parts of the book, adding some of my observations. See—” You pointed to a note on selkies. “These markings here help them blend in with the seaweed, which makes them nearly invisible in shallow waters. Clever, right?”
Sunghoon nodded, and you could see the interest in his expression as he continued to study the page. Emboldened, you moved on, “And this—” you pointed to another entry, flipping a few pages to a section on kelpies. “If you ever encounter a kelpie, you should look out for water plants on its back; they often disguise themselves as beautiful horses near the shore to lure people into the water.”
“Or here, in this section on Acromantulas,” you continued, your excitement getting the better of you. “If you ever come across an Acromantula lair, the air will feel damp and oddly warm, almost like a warning. They leave webs that catch the light differently than normal spider webs—they’re shinier, with a silver tint.”
Sunghoon’s smirk softened, replaced by something you couldn’t quite place. “You really know your stuff,” he said softly, the admiration clear in his voice.
You glanced away, suddenly a little self-conscious under his gaze. “I just… really like learning about magical creatures,” you admitted with a shrug. “I think they’re fascinating.”
Sunghoon let out a low chuckle. “I think you’re fascinating,” he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear.
You paused, heart skipping a beat as you processed his words. But before you could respond, he cleared his throat, his expression unreadable once more as he reached for your book. “So… what else should I know about magical creatures, in case we run into one?”
You grinned and continued explaining each creature with passion and detail, and he listened, seemingly content just to sit there, absorbed in every word you said.
You lost track of time as you continued sharing each creature’s traits, fully immersed in the world of magical beasts and their quirks. You explained to Sunghoon how to spot a bowtruckle in the trees, the difference between a griffin’s call and a hippogriff’s, and why nifflers are drawn to sparkly objects. With every fact you shared, his eyes never left your face.
After a while, you realized just how close he’d inched toward you. There was hardly any space between you now, and you were all too aware of his gaze tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your mouth as you spoke. It was almost unnerving, and for the first time, you found yourself stumbling over your words.
When you paused to catch your breath, Sunghoon broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone talk about magical creatures like that before.”
His words caught you off guard, and you felt warmth creeping into your cheeks. “There’s so much out there we don’t understand. I think that’s the best part—the mystery of it all.” You murmured, glancing down at your notebook.
Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always thought you’re different from everyone else.” He looked down, almost shyly, as if he hadn’t meant to let that slip.
You blinked, surprised. "Different?"
“Yeah,” he replied, finally meeting your gaze again. “You’re�� genuine. Like, you actually care about the things that matter. You don’t just do things because it’s expected, or because someone told you to. You’re… well, it’s hard to explain.” He shrugged, visibly frustrated, and let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle.
You blinked, trying to make sense of what Sunghoon had just said, of the quiet vulnerability in his words. “I… didn’t realize you thought about things like that,” you replied, your voice softer than you’d meant it to be.
But Sunghoon’s momentary openness seemed to vanish as soon as the words left your mouth. His eyes widened slightly, and he immediately turned away, his expression twisting into a frown. "I don’t know why I even—”
Before he could finish, he stood up abruptly, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. You barely had time to react as he took a few steps back, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “beautiful eyes” under his breath, though you couldn’t be sure. Then, without looking back, he turned on his heel and strode out of the library, leaving you staring after him, stunned.
You sat there, watching the tall silhouette of his figure disappear through the doorway, a thousand questions spinning through your mind.
Madam Pince’s voice snapped you out of your daze. She had quietly approached, tidying up the stray books the Gryffindor students had left behind. “It doesn’t take much to see he likes you,” she said, her tone somewhere between amused and exasperated.
Your head whipped around to face her, eyes wide. “Wait—what?”
She glanced at you over the rim of her spectacles, raising an eyebrow as she gathered a stack of books. “Oh, come on. That boy didn’t take his eyes off you for a second. He barely even noticed anyone else in the room.” She shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her. “If he could, I swear he’d have hearts in his eyes. Quite the smitten one, that Sunghoon.”
You felt your face heat up. “I—no, that can’t be.”
Madam Pince gave a noncommittal hum, but her eyes sparkled with something like knowing. “I’ve seen plenty of students in here studying. There’s something different about him.”
ou couldn’t shake the image of Sunghoon’s gaze lingering on you, softer than you’d ever seen it, and the way he’d fumbled over his own words like he didn’t know what to do with them.
“Maybe it’s just the way he looks at you,” Madam Pince added as she placed the last book on the shelf. “You’d think he’s looking at his entire world.”
You felt your breath catch, her words lingering long after you left the library.
The next day, you found yourself standing in the hallway before Charms class, nervously glancing at Wooyoung. You’d practically dragged him here to talk about Sunghoon, though you weren’t entirely sure what you wanted to ask or how to approach him.
“Come on, Wooyoung, you have to help me figure this out,” you said, your voice a little more frantic than you intended. “Do you think… do you think he likes me?”
Wooyoung, leaning casually against the wall, smiled so wide that his grin nearly split his face. There was a gleam in his eyes—one that you knew all too well. The one he always wore when he had some mischievous plan brewing.
“Like you?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t he? You two are practically a walking cliché. The constant competition, the way you both try to one-up each other… It’s as obvious as your latest Transfiguration assignment.”
You frowned, unsure of where he was going with this. “I—what do you mean by that?”
Wooyoung pushed off the wall, standing up straighter. His smile grew wider, and you immediately recognized that look. The one that meant he’d just come up with something ridiculous, probably to your detriment. “Why don’t you make him show it? Get him to prove he likes you.”
You stared at him, blinking in disbelief. “What? How am I supposed to do that?”
He sighed dramatically, as though you’d just asked him a question that was too easy to answer. “It’s simple. Make him jealous using me,” Wooyoung replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Your eyes widened. “Wait, what? You want me to pretend to like you to make Sunghoon jealous?”
“Exactly!” Wooyoung grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “And don’t worry. I’ll even be the test bunny —free of charge. I’ll stick close to you, spend all the time I can with you, and make it look like I’m all about you. Trust me, Sunghoon will get the message real quick.”
You hesitated, worried. “I don’t know, Wooyoung. This seems like a bad idea.”
He groaned in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “How can someone so smart be so clueless? It’s not like you have to actually date me or anything. Besides, you’re not even doing anything bad, just hanging out with your best friend Wooyoung. You’ll see what happens. Just wait until Sunghoon realizes what’s going on. If he likes you, he’ll show it.”
You bit your lip, not entirely convinced. The idea made you uneasy, but Wooyoung was already grabbing your arm, pulling you towards the classroom. “Come on. You can overthink it later. Let’s go.”
Reluctantly, you allowed yourself to be pulled into class, the moment you found your seat, you looked around, half-expecting to see Sunghoon. When he walked into class, you saw him immediately—tall and confident, his usual smirk in place. But as soon as his eyes landed on you, sitting next to Wooyoung, his entire demeanor shifted. His eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed.
You felt your stomach flip when Sunghoon stalked over, crossing his arms.
“You’re in my seat,” Sunghoon said, his voice cold as his eyes locked onto Wooyoung.
Wooyoung, not missing a beat, tilted his head back and looked at Sunghoon with a smug expression. “I don’t see your name here,” he teased, his voice playful, almost sing-song. He then dramatically pulled you closer to him, as though to stake his claim. “Besides, I’m sitting here now.”
You shot Wooyoung a look, but he was already enjoying this far too much. You glanced back at Sunghoon, who was glaring at Wooyoung with a look that could have burned a hole through him, his jaw clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line. But when Sunghoon looked at you, his eyes softened just a little—though the frown still remained. He sighed in frustration before walking off, clearly not wanting to make a scene.
His eyes then locked onto the desk directly in front of you, where a Ravenclaw student had been sitting just moments ago, quietly taking notes. Without so much as a glance toward you or Wooyoung, Sunghoon walked up to the desk with a purposeful stride.
The Ravenclaw, a young girl with glasses perched on the edge of her nose, looked up in mild surprise as Sunghoon approached her. She was about to ask if something was wrong when he stood before her, towering slightly as he looked down at her desk with an unwavering gaze.
“Move,” he said simply, his voice low and calm, but there was an unspoken authority in it. It wasn’t a question, and there was no room for negotiation in his tone.
The Ravenclaw blinked, unsure of what was happening. “Excuse me?” she asked, her voice a little shaky.
Sunghoon’s expression remained neutral. “I’m sitting here,” he repeated, and he placed his bag down on the desk, almost as though he were claiming it.
The girl hesitated, glancing at the seat next to yours where Wooyoung sat, clearly not understanding the situation. She looked at the empty seats around the room, trying to figure out what to do.
“You can find another seat,” Sunghoon added coolly, his gaze unflinching. “It’s not a big deal.”
The Ravenclaw swallowed hard, her face flushing with confusion and embarrassment. She had no idea what was happening. Was this some sort of joke? Was she supposed to just give up her seat because Sunghoon wanted it? She opened her mouth to protest again, but before she could speak, she caught the look in Sunghoon’s eyes—cold, almost daring her to defy him.
“Okay,” she muttered, gathering her things and standing up, clearly unnerved by the tension in the air. Reluctantly, she grabbed her bag, and with a small, defeated sigh, she walked toward a different desk, clearly trying to avoid further confrontation.
You watched the scene unfold with a mix of surprise and discomfort, and you could see Wooyoung beside you, clearly amused by the whole thing. Sunghoon didn’t even spare a glance at the girl as she moved to another desk. He simply adjusted his books, and slid into the chair with a casual ease.
Wooyoung chuckled under his breath as class started, nudging you with an exaggerated wink. “Worked like a charm,” he whispered, grinning.
As Professor Flitwick began the lecture, Wooyoung scribbled something on a scrap of parchment and nudged it toward you, his grin widening when you glanced down.
“I’d say Sunghoon looks about two seconds away from hexing me,” he’d scrawled, complete with a little doodle of a scowling Sunghoon.
You smirked, scribbling back, “More like two seconds from snapping his quill in half.”
Wooyoung had to stifle his laugh, glancing up to make sure Flitwick wasn’t watching. Meanwhile, Sunghoon sat in front of you, stiff and silent, answering Professor Flitwick’s questions with uncharacteristic quietness. Normally, this was the part of the lesson where you’d challenge him, but you were too busy passing notes and snickering quietly with Wooyoung.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon, seemed quieter than usual. It was obvious to you that he wasn’t paying much attention to the lesson now—his usually sharp focus shifted entirely to the students around him. You caught the way he glanced up when another student raised their hand, trying to challenge him. They asked a particularly tricky question about the correct incantation for a charm, but when Sunghoon answered smoothly, there was no cocky attitude, no smug smirk. He answered matter-of-factly, almost quietly, and then fell back into his seat, looking down at his parchment with furrowed brows.
Other students tried to challenge him, pushing for more details, but Sunghoon didn’t rise to the occasion like he usually did with you. He remained reserved, answering them simply and without the usual bite in his voice.
And you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all connected to the game you and Wooyoung had started—testing Sunghoon's reactions, seeing how far you could push him. You watched him for a few more moments, noting how his posture stiffened slightly whenever someone questioned him. It was like he was waiting for something—waiting for you to throw a comment or a challenge his way. But you stayed quiet, not offering him the usual banter or playful disagreement.
Wooyoung passed you another note, his handwriting messier this time from his suppressed laughter. “Guess he only cares if it’s you arguing with him.”
As soon as Professor Flitwick dismissed the class, you barely had a second to pack up your things before Wooyoung seized your arm, yanking you up from your seat and ushering you toward the door with hurried enthusiasm.
“Come on, come on!” he whispered, grinning as he practically dragged you through the aisle, weaving between students as they gathered their things.
You stumbled slightly, barely managing to throw your bag over your shoulder as Wooyoung tugged you along, his grip firm as he steered you toward the corridor. Behind you, you caught a quick glimpse of Sunghoon, his expression darkening as he watched Wooyoung pull you away.
“Wooyoung, slow down!” you protested, trying to keep from tripping as he continued his brisk pace down the hallway. You glanced back, half-expecting Sunghoon to be right behind you, but the corridor was empty, and you couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of disappointment that he hadn’t followed.
Wooyoung just laughed, his mischief only growing as he finally slowed down, his grip loosening as he threw you a victorious smile. “Did you see his face? He was practically glaring daggers at me!”
You rolled your eyes, brushing your hair out of your face as you tried to catch your breath. “You’re going to drive him crazy at this rate. What if he actually loses it?”
Wooyoung smirked, shrugging as if it was no big deal. “Isn’t that the plan? You’ll know for sure if he really likes you.” He wagged his eyebrows at you playfully, nudging you with his shoulder. “Besides, I’ve never seen him that riled up over anything—or anyone, for that matter. And if he’s jealous, it’s because he knows he’s got competition.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but Wooyoung was already shooting you a smug grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over his shoulder, making sure Sunghoon hadn’t caught up to you. You hated to admit it, but a part of you couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy at the thought of getting under Sunghoon’s skin, especially after all the times he’d done the same to you.
Wooyoung didn't hold back over the next few days, sticking by your side at every opportunity, always there with that trademark mischievous grin. He’d slide into the seat beside you during classes, insist on walking you to the Great Hall for meals, and show up at the library to “help” you study—even if he spent more time drawing little doodles on your notes than actually being helpful.
You caught Sunghoon watching the two of you on more than one occasion, his gaze dark and intense, lips pressed into a firm line as Wooyoung leaned close to whisper something that would make you laugh. The frustration on Sunghoon’s face was unmistakable, but he never said anything. He would just look away with a huff, his jaw clenched as he turned his attention back to whatever was in front of him.
During Potions, Wooyoung made a particularly bold move, sliding his chair so close to yours that your shoulders brushed as you worked on a shared project. Sunghoon, who sat across from you, glared at Wooyoung with such ferocity that you were sure he’d burst.
“Are you two always this… close?” Sunghoon finally muttered, barely hiding the edge in his voice.
Wooyoung looked up with an innocent smile, putting an arm over your shoulder with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh, absolutely. I’m just here to make sure no one distracts her from her studies,” he said with a wink in your direction.
You bit back a laugh as Sunghoon’s expression turned sour, his fingers tapping agitatedly against the desk.
As the days went on, Sunghoon’s patience seemed to fray bit by bit, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a simmering frustration. You could see it in the way he clenched his fists whenever he saw you with Wooyoung, how he’d roll his eyes when he overheard Wooyoung laughing with you in the library. He even began answering questions more aggressively in class, as though trying to reclaim some attention.
One evening, when Wooyoung had just pulled you out of the library after an impromptu “study session,” you spotted Sunghoon watching you from across the corridor, his expression dark. Wooyoung followed your gaze and smirked, leaning down to whisper, “I think he’s finally reaching his limit. Just wait—he’ll crack any day now.”
--
You were sat in the courtyard, finally getting a moment to study in peace with Wooyoung serving detention, a shadow fell over your books. You looked up, blinking as Sunghoon stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, an intense look in his eyes.
“Studying alone for once?” he asked, his voice casual, but the edge in it unmistakable.
You gave him a small shrug, trying to appear unfazed. “Yeah, Wooyoung’s busy.”
Sunghoon sat down across from you without asking, his gaze flickering over your books before settling on you. “So, you and Wooyoung… you’ve known each other for a while, huh?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly fishing for something.
You raised an eyebrow, sensing where this was going. “We’re good friends,” you replied simply. “We’ve known each other since second year.”
Sunghoon’s brows knit together, curiosity—and maybe a hint of jealousy—lingering in his expression. “How did that even happen? You two don’t seem like the most… obvious match.”
You laughed a little at the memory. “Oh, it was something, alright. I found him running from Filch after he’d set off one of those cursed prank fireworks. He practically begged me to hide him, so I did. After that, we just… clicked, I guess. I’d cover for him, and he’d keep me entertained with his ridiculous schemes.”
Sunghoon nodded, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. “So you’re telling me you’ve been cleaning up his messes for years.”
You laughed. “Pretty much.”
For a moment, Sunghoon seemed lost in thought, a silence settling between you as he absorbed what you’d shared. He looked down at the book open in front of you—a piece on mythical creatures.
“Sounds like you’re a better friend than he deserves,” he muttered, his voice barely loud enough to hear. And then, without waiting for your reaction, he quickly added, “But maybe you’re just too kind. I doubt you’d turn away anyone if they asked for help.” He leaned forward, arms crossed and a curious look on his face, as if he were ready to seize this moment and talk about anything—everything, even.
“So… this whole mythical creatures thing,” he began, nodding toward the book in front of you. “It’s what you want to do after school, right?”
You hesitated, but then you looked up and caught the way Sunghoon’s gaze softened as he waited for you to answer. There was no trace of his usual smirk or sarcastic tone; he just looked genuinely… interested. Almost desperate to keep this conversation going, like he needed to talk to you, even if it was about the most random thing he could think of.
Letting out a quiet sigh, you nodded. “Yeah… I guess I want to travel, see the world, learn about different creatures out there.”
Sunghoon nodded slowly, eyes never leaving yours. “Makes sense for you.”
You couldn’t help but smile. “What about you, Sunghoon? What do you want to do?”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly awkward as he considered his answer. “Me? Well… my family expects me to follow in their footsteps and work in the Ministry. Some important role that’ll keep the Park name respectable or whatever.”
You raised an eyebrow, surprised at how openly he was talking about it. “And… is that what you want?”
He hesitated, glancing away briefly before meeting your eyes again. “Honestly? No. But it’s not like I get much say in it. My parents… they don’t really ask what I want. They just have this… plan. And I’m supposed to go along with it.”
You softened, forgetting all about Wooyoung’s plan. “Maybe one day, you’ll get to do what you actually want. Even if it means disappointing a few people along the way.”
Sunghoon’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Maybe.”
While you and Sunghoon continued your conversation, Wooyoung burst onto the scene, looking a bit disheveled from detention.
"Hey! You promised you’d help me with Astronomy, remember?" he announced, hands on his hips as he gestured toward the library.
You blinked, taken aback. “Did I? I don’t remember promising that, Woo—”
But Wooyoung wasn’t giving you a moment to think. He sidled up to you, giving Sunghoon a mischievous side-eye as he tried to usher you away. That was, until Sunghoon suddenly stood up with startling speed.
“Actually, we’ll both help you,” he said firmly, his voice determined, like he was making a declaration. He looked between you and Wooyoung, and you couldn’t hide your surprise. Sunghoon had never offered to tutor anyone, much less help anyone study.
Wooyoung faltered for a moment, his usual quick wit momentarily stunned. “Wait, you want to help? Since when does Sunghoon Park volunteer to help anyone?” he stammered, clearly thrown off his game.
Without missing a beat, Sunghoon reached out, grabbing your hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and gently pulled you along. He positioned himself slightly in front of you, blocking Wooyoung’s view just enough to hold your attention. His touch was firm, warm, and you could feel the faintest bit of tension in his grip, as though he was reluctant to let you go.
“Come on,” he said, glancing back at you, eyes lit with determination.
You barely had time to process the boldness of his move, your heart beating a little faster at the intensity in his gaze. But then, from behind you, Wooyoung snapped out of his daze.
“Hey! Don’t leave me!” he shouted, sprinting forward to catch up.
Once inside the library, Sunghoon led you to a secluded corner, where the stacks of books created a quiet, private nook. He settled down across from you, pulling out his Astronomy textbook and parchment without a word. You followed suit, just as Wooyoung stumbled in, slightly out of breath and muttering curses under his breath.
"Merlin, Sunghoon, did you have to practically run here? Not all of us have legs that belong on a Quidditch team,” Wooyoung huffed, plopping down in the remaining seat and tossing his Astronomy books onto the table.
You chuckled softly, but Sunghoon didn’t seem to notice. He had already opened his book and was flipping to a relevant chapter, his eyes scanning the page with a quiet focus. The three of you settled in, and soon, you began explaining the constellations and how to identify them, taking a parchment to map out a few diagrams for Wooyoung.
Sunghoon added an occasional word here and there, though you quickly noticed his advice was always directed toward you, not Wooyoung. It was as if he couldn’t be bothered to look at Wooyoung directly, instead choosing to watch you as you spoke. Every so often, he'd chime in at the end of your explanations, repeating or affirming your words like a quiet echo.
"Right," you’d say, finishing up a description of Orion. “That’s why its belt is so distinctive in the night sky.”
"Distinctive,” Sunghoon murmured, nodding slightly as he watched you, his gaze steady.
Wooyoung, however, wasn’t about to let this slide. He shot you a look of exaggerated exasperation, rolling his eyes playfully as Sunghoon added yet another short agreement after your sentence.
“If I’d known studying with the both of you would be this one-sided, I’d have just gone to Hagrid’s for a simpler lecture,” Wooyoung quipped, pretending to grumble. He shot you a grin. “You’re doing all the heavy lifting here. Sunghoon’s just admiring the view.”
You stifled a laugh, glancing at Sunghoon, who simply shrugged and looked away, not even trying to deny it. A faint blush had crept up his cheeks, but he kept his gaze on his notes, acting unbothered as he continued to jot things down.
The table fell quiet for a moment, the only sounds being the rustling of pages and the scratching of quills. Sunghoon had finally turned his attention to his notes, his posture still stiff and focused, while Wooyoung, sitting across from you, began to plot. You could feel the mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced between you and Sunghoon, an idea forming behind that grin of his. You knew that grin well—it was the kind of grin that spelled out nothing good.
And then, as if on cue, Wooyoung shifted in his seat, straightened up, and suddenly leaned forward, all casual-like.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice loud enough to carry across the quiet library. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if Sunghoon here actually smiled when he helped us study? You know, like… with an actual expression, not just his usual ‘I’m-too-cool-for-this’ face?”
You shot him a look, one that made it clear you were aware of what he was doing. You opened your mouth to say something, but Wooyoung was already going for it. He nudged your elbow gently with his, a silent request for backup.
“I mean,” he continued, his voice deliberately drawing out the words, “I bet you could teach him a thing or two about showing some emotion, right? I’ve seen you make him smile once in a while. That’s kind of impressive, considering, you know… he usually doesn't even seem to know how to have fun. Maybe you should be his personal tutor on that.”
You suppressed a laugh, but it was difficult to stop your lips from twitching. Sunghoon, however, didn’t react at first. He kept his eyes on the page in front of him, though the muscles in his jaw twitched slightly, and his posture tightened.
Wooyoung wasn’t done. No, he was just getting started. He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease, as if he were speaking casually about the weather.
“So,” he said with a sly grin, “Sunghoon, what's it like, huh? Sitting here and being the epitome of cool? Don’t you get bored sometimes?” He leaned forward, directing his question to Sunghoon directly now. “You ever get jealous? Like when Y/N and I hang out and I make her laugh, but you can’t seem to do the same? Maybe you could learn something from me after all. You know, how to crack a joke here and there. It’d be a good change of pace for you.”
Your eyes widened, realizing the full extent of Wooyoung’s plan. He was making you the center of attention, and Sunghoon was stuck right in front of you, getting teased in a way that was bound to rattle him.
For a moment, it seemed like Sunghoon was going to retort, but then something changed. He looked at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before his gaze flicked back to his notes.
“I don’t need to crack jokes to be effective,” he muttered, the words clipped and sharp, though there was a distinct edge to them. “But you do seem to have a talent for making everything an entertainment show.”
Wooyoung’s grin only widened at the jab. "Well, someone’s gotta keep things interesting."
You were trying so hard not to laugh, your hand pressed against your lips to stifle the giggles. You could tell that Wooyoung was enjoying to push Sunghoon’s buttons, waiting for him to bite, and it was hard to ignore how Sunghoon seemed to slowly crack under the pressure.
Finally, you couldn’t keep it in anymore. You let out a soft laugh, looking at Sunghoon with a teasing smile. “You’re not gonna let Wooyoung get to you, are you?”
Sunghoon paused, his eyes flickering to you, he exhaled, almost like a sigh, and then said, with a quiet edge, “I’ve got more important things to focus on than whatever this is.”
Madam Pince appeared just as you were trying to suppress the last of your laughter, her stern eyes scanning the room. She spotted you from across the library and made her way over, her expression softening a little when she saw you sitting with Sunghoon and Wooyoung.
"Ah, Y/N," she said in her usual clipped tone. "I’m in need of some assistance. There’s a book missing, and you seem to be one of the few students who knows this library well enough to help me track it down."
You nodded quickly, grateful for the excuse to step away from the tension growing between Sunghoon and Wooyoung. "Of course, Madam Pince. I'll help you find it."
You were prepared to leave, but before you did, you leaned closer to Wooyoung, who was still watching Sunghoon, his expression one of quiet amusement.
“Play fair, Wooyoung,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear but soft enough that Sunghoon wouldn’t catch on.
Wooyoung gave you a wide, mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with the hint of something else—perhaps a little bit of challenge. "You got it, Y/N," he whispered back, his voice teasing.
Then, you turned to Sunghoon, who had been unusually quiet, his eyes focused on his notes but his body language still tight. You weren’t sure if he was just avoiding Wooyoung’s teasing or if there was something else on his mind.
Leaning in slightly, you whispered to him, just as softly as you had to Wooyoung, “Go easy on Wooyoung, alright?”
Sunghoon didn’t immediately respond, but you could see his eyes flicker with a slight surprise. He gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod, though his lips remained pressed together in that tight line he often wore when he wasn’t sure how to express himself.
"Fine," he muttered, his tone as close to a concession as you’d get from him.
With that, you excused yourself from the table, gathering your bag and walking away with Madam Pince, who seemed to appreciate the extra pair of hands.
--
You handed Madam Pince the book when you found it, her lips curling into a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you, Y/N. You’re always so helpful," she said, before disappearing behind a shelf to return the book to its rightful place.
Once that was done, you made your way back to the table where you’d left Sunghoon and Wooyoung. But when you walked up, you noticed that only Sunghoon remained, his focus still on his notes, though he didn’t seem as intense as he had been earlier. His shoulders were slightly hunched over, his quill scratching across the parchment in front of him.
"Where’d Wooyoung go?" you asked, your voice light but curious.
Sunghoon didn’t look up at first, continuing to write something down before responding. "He got too bored and decided to leave. Probably off causing trouble somewhere," he said, his voice flat.
You sighed, shaking your head. "I should've known. He's always up to something."
Sunghoon just shrugged and went back to his work, not saying anything more.
After some time, Sunghoon glanced up from his notes and reached for one of the books you had both been reading. He scanned a passage, muttering something under his breath before looking at you again.
"Here’s a question," he said, reading aloud. "What do you think is the primary trait that allows a Thestral to remain undetected by most students?" He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours. "I think it's their ability to be invisible to those who haven't experienced death. What would you add to that?"
You thought for a second. "I would add that they also have an inherent ability to sense the emotions of others, which could explain why they only reveal themselves to people who have truly understood loss. It’s not just physical invisibility, it’s emotional, too."
Sunghoon nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing at his lips. "I like that. You’ve got a good point."
As you both continued discussing the finer details of Thestrals, your chairs inched closer and closer without either of you noticing. At first, it was just a subtle shift in the way you both sat, both leaning in a little to be closer to the books and each other’s notes. But soon, you were sitting shoulder to shoulder, the space between you so small it almost didn’t matter anymore.
You could feel the warmth of his shoulder brushing against yours, a strange sense of familiarity in the way you both fit together in that moment. And when he passed you a book, his hand brushing yours in the process, neither of you pulled away.
The air between you both seemed to shift, subtle yet undeniable. Time seemed to slow for a moment, and you couldn't help but notice the brief flicker in Sunghoon's eyes—like he was aware of the closeness, of the sudden tension that hadn't been there before.
You both locked eyes, your gazes lingering a little longer than they should have. Then, just as quickly, his gaze dropped to your lips, and you felt a slight shift in your chest. You instinctively licked your lips, a nervous habit, and when you did, Sunghoon's gaze followed the motion, his eyes following the path of your tongue. You could almost feel the shift in his focus as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at the realization that he had caught it, that he had been watching you so intently.
You gave him a soft smile, just a hint of amusement in your expression, before you quickly looked back down at your notes, trying to regain your composure.
Sunghoon, as if breaking free from whatever spell had taken hold of him, seemed to blink and shake himself out of his trance. His gaze shifted back to his notes, though there was a slight tightness in his jaw that hadn't been there before. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual collected demeanor.
"Right," he muttered, focusing on the book in front of him as though it was the most interesting thing in the room.
Your hand, poised over your quill, hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of what to write next. Your thoughts were scattered now—your mind buzzing with a thousand things, none of them having to do with the notes in front of you. You focused on the lines, the words, the shapes of the ink on the page, but it was a challenge. Everything felt so much more present now.
The night had stretched on without either of you noticing. The quiet between you had been comfortable, filled with soft whispers of pages turning and the faint scratch of quills on paper. When you finally stood, stretching your stiff limbs, the weight of the evening pressed down on you. Sunghoon, still by your side, packed his books slowly, as if reluctant to leave.
You both stepped out of the library together, the cool night air hitting you with the suddenness of it, making you shiver slightly. Sunghoon, as usual, was a step ahead of you, walking with that calm, collected air he always carried.
As the doors to the library clicked shut behind you, the portraits along the hallways seemed to come alive, their eyes following you both as you walked. Your eyes flicked over the various faces, and then you noticed a particular painting—two lovers standing close, gazing at each other with love. The two figures in the painting seemed to smirk at you, their eyes sparkling with mischievous intent.
A wave of warmth spread over you, and before you could even think, your face flushed, the embarrassment catching you off guard. You quickly looked away, focusing on the stone floor beneath your feet, trying to hide your blush. That’s when your gaze inadvertently lifted up, and you found yourself looking at Sunghoon.
You hadn’t meant to stare, but you couldn’t help it. His side profile was so striking, every feature seeming perfectly sculpted in the low light of the hallway. His sharp jawline was defined, the angle of it so perfect it almost looked like something out of a painting itself. His nose—straight and sharp—seemed to fit his face so well. You could see the faint moles on his skin, scattered along his otherwise perfect pale skin. His dark hair, messy but somehow perfect, fell effortlessly over his forehead, and the way it framed his face made everything about him seem even more… intense.
But it was his eyes that captivated you the most. Even though he wasn’t looking directly at you, you could feel them—those eyes that were usually so guarded, now more thoughtful.
When you reached the entrance to your common room, you stopped, both of you hesitant for just a second. The words you wanted to say stuck in your throat, you looked up at him again, your gaze lingering on his face.
“Thanks for walking me back,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sunghoon nodded, and for a moment, neither of you moved. He hesitated before giving you a small, almost imperceptible smile.
“Anytime,” he replied, his voice softer than usual, almost unsure.
--
You tossed and turned in your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, the restless whispers of your bedmates’ snores filling the silence of the dormitory. Despite the rhythmic sound of their breathing, it only seemed to make everything feel more stifling. The night stretched on far too long, the weight of your thoughts keeping you wide awake. No matter how you shifted, how many times you tried to find a comfortable position, sleep refused to come.
It was late. Too late. You should be asleep, but every time you closed your eyes, the thoughts came back, chasing you into a wakefulness that felt almost unbearable. You groaned softly, rubbing your face with both hands.
Sighing in frustration, you finally gave up. With a groan, you sat up, blinking in the dim light that filtered in from the window. You glanced around at your sleeping bedmates, none of them aware of your restlessness. The soft, sleepy murmurs of their dreams only made the weight of your own thoughts feel heavier. You needed to get out.
Quietly, you slipped your legs off the bed and padded across the floor in your slippers. You grabbed your jacket from the back of your chair and threw it on over your pyjamas, the fabric slightly chilly against your skin. Your wand was a comforting weight in your hand as you whispered the slightest incantation under your breath. The quiet "Lumos" from your wand’s tip provided a faint light, just enough to guide your way.
The corridors of Hogwarts were eerily quiet, bathed in shadow, save for the faint glow of your wand. You moved carefully, keeping your footsteps light, aware of the potential danger of being caught. You didn’t want to risk Filch or Mrs. Norris spotting you, so you kept your senses heightened. If you saw anyone, you'd be ready to cast the Disillusionment Charm in an instant, blending into the shadows before they could even register your presence.
Before long, you reached your destination—the Astronomy Tower. You could already feel the calming presence of the stars, even from the base of the tower. You hurried up the winding stairs, each step taking you closer to the quiet peace of the tower. Your breath quickened as you climbed. When you reached the top, you pushed open the door to the tower and stepped out into the cool night air.
The stars twinkled above you, scattered across the sky like diamonds scattered on velvet. The moon hung high and bright, casting a silvery glow over the castle. The familiar peace settled over you, the noise in your head beginning to fade as you stood there, gazing out at the endless night.
As you stood there in the quiet, the faint shuffle of footsteps behind you pulled your attention away from the stars. You instinctively gripped your wand, the spell already forming in your mind, but before you could cast it, a familiar voice rang out, low and quiet, but unmistakable.
“Well, well, didn’t expect to see you here.”
You turned quickly, your heart racing, and found Sunghoon standing just a few feet away. His presence felt like a sudden shift in the air, his gaze fixed on you, unreadable yet steady. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.
“What are you doing here?” You tried to sound casual, but your pulse quickened. You had been hoping for solitude, not the unexpected company of someone who seemed to occupy so much space in your mind lately.
Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing in that way that made you feel as though he was always observing, always calculating. “Same reason as you, I suspect. Couldn’t sleep.” He took a step closer, his movements smooth and deliberate. “The stars have a way of making everything… quieter, don’t they?”
You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to make small talk or let the silence stretch on.
“I didn’t think you’d be the type to sneak out at night,” he added, his voice taking on that teasing tone you were so familiar with.
“I’m not usually,” you replied, though the words felt a little less convincing now. “Just… needed some air. Some time away from everything.”
“Everything?” Sunghoon echoed, his eyebrow raising slightly. “Including me?”
You froze, unsure how to answer, but before you could say anything, he was already standing next to you.
You turned your attention back to the stars, unable to meet his gaze. “No, not you,” you murmured quietly, almost reflexively. “I just… don’t know how to sort all of this out.”
Sunghoon was silent for a beat, then spoke again, his voice softer now, a touch more serious. “You know, you don’t have to figure everything out all at once.”
You met his gaze, and for the first time, you didn’t see a challenge there. “I don’t know if I want to figure it out,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
His lips curled into that familiar smirk, but this time, it was different. There was no teasing edge, just the soft hint of understanding. “Fair enough.”
You exhaled slowly, considering his words.
“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice almost thoughtful, “I’ve seen you up here before, on some nights.”
You blinked, surprised. “You have?”
He shrugged, his gaze never leaving the stars. “Sometimes. I didn’t want to disturb you, though. You looked… peaceful.”
There was a flicker of something in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly that you weren’t sure if you had imagined it. He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he was sitting down on the cold stone floor of the tower, his legs crossed as he looked up at the sky.
You hesitated for a moment, then joined him, sitting a few inches away.
After a long silence, you broke the silence, your voice almost soft. “The stars look beautiful, don’t they?”
Sunghoon glanced at you, but instead of following your gaze to the sky, his eyes lingered on you for a moment. “Yeah,” he agreed. “They are.” His gaze lingered a moment longer.
He never really looked at the night sky at all.
--
History of Magic class had never been your favorite, but this particular day, you were running late, thanks to a rather inconvenient staircase that decided to shift just as you were climbing it. You had narrowly avoided tripping, but it had definitely delayed your arrival to class.
You stepped into the classroom with a quiet sigh of relief, thankful that Professor Binns was, as usual, sound asleep, floating behind his desk in his usual ethereal state.
Your eyes scanned the classroom for an empty seat, your gaze flicking from student to student until you caught sight of Sunghoon. He was sitting a few rows ahead, his expression calm, though his eyes subtly flickered toward you. He gave you a slight nod and a small gesture with his hand, silently urging you to sit beside him.
You hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to join him. As you made your way toward him, you felt the weight of your bag on your shoulder, wondering if you’d packed something extra this morning. You dropped into the seat beside him and set your bag down with a sigh.
But as you opened it to grab your notes, you immediately gasped, shocked. There was something extra in there that you hadn’t packed—something that wasn’t supposed to be in your bag. You quickly shut it again, looking around nervously, but fortunately, no one seemed to be paying attention. Most of the class was too busy chatting or goofing off to notice.
Sunghoon, noticing your surprise, raised an eyebrow at you. “What’s wrong?”
You nudged the bag toward him, a questioning look in your eyes. He tilted his head, curious, and then leaned in slightly. Without saying anything, he reached over and opened your bag. When his eyes met yours again, his expression mirrored your own surprise, and he quickly closed it, his eyebrows shooting up in shock.
“What the hell?” Sunghoon muttered under his breath, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed.
You both kept your voices low, trying to keep the situation between just the two of you. Sunghoon passed you his notes for the rest of the class, a wordless agreement to focus on the task at hand.
By the time Professor Binns finally stirred, slowly waking from his nap, you were practically ready to bolt out of the classroom. Sunghoon, too, had packed up quickly, his eyes flickering over to you as if he shared your urgency.
The moment Binns waved you off with a disinterested dismissal, you were out of your seat in an instant, clutching your bag tightly to your side. Sunghoon followed after you, his footsteps quick and light as he kept pace beside you. The two of you slipped into an empty classroom just down the hall. You quickly shut the door behind you, and Sunghoon locked it, his eyes flicking back to you, unsure of what was about to happen.
You didn’t waste any time. You set your bag on a nearby table and opened it again, and as you reached inside, your fingers brushed against something warm and soft—and then, with a slight tug, you pulled out Spark, the little Niffler, who immediately clung to you with his tiny paws.
You couldn’t help but laugh in surprise as Spark squirmed in your grip, his shiny black eyes gleaming as he wriggled in your arms, his pouch clearly overflowing. “That’s why my bag was so heavy!” you exclaimed in disbelief, shaking your head. “I thought I packed an extra book! How did you sneak in there, little guy?”
Spark tried twisting around in your arms, desperate to get away, but you held him tightly, trying to keep him under control. He was practically a bundle of energy, clearly pleased with himself after whatever little heist he’d gone on.
Sunghoon watched you both for a moment, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. “How did he even get away from Hagrid?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity.
You shrugged nonchalantly. “Nifflers are tricky,” you said, your smile growing as you felt Spark nuzzle against you, clearly satisfied with his haul.
“I imagine Hagrid’s going to be missing something when he realizes.” Sunghoon said, his tone slightly teasing.
“I’ll return whatever he stole,” you said, a little exasperated, but the fondness for the mischievous creature clear in your voice. “If I can ever get him to give it back.”
Sunghoon’s eyes lingered on Spark for a moment longer before he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Only you could have a Niffler hiding in your bag during school.”
You smiled sheepishly. “Well, I don’t make it easy for myself, do I?”
Sunghoon let out a soft laugh, his gaze still fixed on Spark "Definitely not," he said, a teasing tone slipping into his voice.
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile at the way he looked at you. You adjusted your grip on Spark, who had decided that now was the perfect time to try and escape, wiggling energetically.
"Okay, okay," you said, giving up trying to keep him still. "You win. You can go play, but if you steal anything else, I’m telling Hagrid." Spark let out a small chirp as he scurried off your lap and darted toward a stack of books in the corner of the room, clearly on the hunt for more shiny objects.
Sunghoon’s chuckle faded as he looked over at you, his eyes a little more thoughtful now. "You’ve got a lot going on, huh?" he asked, his voice soft, almost as if he was just realizing something he hadn’t thought about before.
You cut him off with a playful shrug. "It’s nothing I can’t handle," you said, your tone light. "Besides, I’ve got good company to help me through it." You flashed him a grin, hoping to keep things light.
Sunghoon’s eyes softened, his lips curving into a small smile. For a moment, he just looked at you, but before either of you could say anything more, Spark returned with what looked like a shiny button in his mouth, clearly pleased with his new find.
Sunghoon glanced at Spark, then back at you, his expression amused but still thoughtful. "I think you’re more like him than you realize," he said, a hint of warmth in his voice. "Getting into trouble, but always figuring it out somehow."
You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his words. "I wouldn’t say I’m that bad."
He shrugged nonchalantly, his smile lingering. "Maybe not. But you definitely keep things interesting."
Eventually, Spark seemed to grow bored of his treasure hunt and returned to your lap, curling up contentedly. You smiled down at him, your fingers absentmindedly petting his fluffy little head.
"Guess we should probably get back to studying," you said, your voice softer now, more relaxed.
Sunghoon nodded, leaning back slightly in his chair, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer. "Yeah, I suppose so."
You and Sunghoon made your way to the courtyard after packing up your things from the empty classroom. The sun was beginning to set, casting a soft golden light over the stone pathways. The courtyard was quiet, except for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant chatter of students who had finished their classes for the day. You found a quiet bench near the flowerbeds, your books spread out between you as you settled in to continue your study session.
As soon as you opened your notebook, the challenge began.
"So, what’s this about the Thunderbirds again?" Sunghoon asked, glancing at the page you were studying. "I’ve heard of them, but I’m not sure I get the whole thing."
You couldn’t help but smirk slightly, glad to have an advantage for once. "Thunderbirds are fascinating," you said, your voice animated as you leaned in a little closer to your notes. "They’re massive, magical birds that can summon storms with the beat of their wings. They’re native to North America and are known for being extremely elusive."
Sunghoon leaned back, crossing his arms with an amused smile. "Well, I already knew they could summon storms. But the elusive part? That’s new." He paused, then added, "So, what, they just hide all the time?"
"They’re incredibly protective of their nests," you continued, undeterred by his teasing. "They only show themselves to those they trust, and even then, it’s rare. That’s why spotting one is so special."
Sunghoon hummed thoughtfully, clearly intrigued, but then his gaze shifted to the open page of Defense Against the Dark Arts you had next to you. "Okay, okay. Enough with the Thunderbirds," he said, tapping the page lightly. "What about this spell here? Do you know how to counter the Inferius Charm? Because that’s actually something I’ve been working on in my spare time."
You paused, blinking a little at him. "Inferius Charm?" you asked, your brow furrowing as you tried to recall your lessons. "Isn’t that the one where you reanimate the dead?"
"Exactly," Sunghoon replied, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "It’s really tricky to deal with, but if you know the right counter-curse, you can stop them cold."
You thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I remember the counter-curse is Finite Incantatem, right? But it only works if the Inferius hasn’t fully gained control yet. Otherwise, you need something stronger, like Fiendfyre."
Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. "You’ve been reading ahead, haven’t you?"
You smiled, a bit smug. "I like to be prepared."
"Well, I can see that," he said, turning his attention back to his notes. "But let me tell you something you might not know," he added, leaning forward a bit. "A strong Patronus works too. It’s not something most people would think about, but the energy from a Patronus is enough to break the dark magic animating the Inferius."
You blinked, surprised. "That’s… that’s actually really clever."
He smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "I don’t just look good, you know."
You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was something about the way Sunghoon said it, so confidently, that made you smile. "I’ll give you credit, that’s pretty impressive."
But you weren’t about to let him have the last word. "But, you know, for someone who’s so good at Defense Against the Dark Arts," you teased, "you should really know that Fiendfyre is a dangerous last resort. It’s not something to throw around casually."
Sunghoon raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I’ll admit it—I was showing off a little."
You both laughed, as you leaned back, taking a deep breath. It was nice, you realized, to have this kind of easy conversation with him.
The cool evening air brushed against your face as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting the courtyard in a soft, dusky light. You and Sunghoon continued your quiet study session, each of you focused but every so often exchanging playful glances or little remarks.
You found yourself looking at him more often than you realized, noticing the way the fading light reflected in his dark eyes, how his sharp jawline seemed more defined in the soft glow of the evening.
"So, what’s your favorite magical creature?" Sunghoon asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence between you two.
You blinked, taken off guard by the question. "Favorite?" You thought for a moment, glancing at the magical creatures book on the table between you. "I think I’d have to go with Thestrals."
"Thestrals?" Sunghoon echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Isn’t that a bit dark for you?"
You smirked, tilting your head. "Not at all. They’re misunderstood creatures. They're associated with death, yes, but they’re also symbols of strength, resilience, and the importance of seeing the world for what it is."
Sunghoon seemed to pause for a moment, considering your words. "I get it," he said, his voice softening. "They're like the quiet ones that people forget about or are afraid of, but they're actually kind of… impressive."
You smiled, pleased he seemed to understand. "Exactly. They’re beautiful in their own way."
A comfortable silence stretched between you both after that, the air around you growing cooler as the evening progressed.
As you flipped through your notes, you heard him sigh, and when you looked up, his eyes were still on you.
"You’ve been pretty quiet about your personal life," Sunghoon said after a moment. His voice was casual, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity. "What’s something people don’t know about you?"
You raised an eyebrow, half-suspicious and half-curious. "Why the sudden interest?"
"I’m just wondering," he replied, shrugging with a nonchalant smile. "You know everything about me—well, almost everything—so I thought maybe I’d ask you something personal."
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. You weren’t used to opening up about yourself like this, especially to someone who had been a bit of a puzzle to you until now.
"I guess," you started slowly, glancing down at your notes for a moment, "one thing people don’t know about me is that I actually really enjoy quiet moments like this. Everyone always thinks I’m outgoing, but I like being still. I like the peace."
Sunghoon watched you closely as you spoke, his expression softening. "That’s… kind of surprising," he said, almost as if he were contemplating your words. "But I get it. It’s nice to just… exist in the moment sometimes."
You simply nodded.
--
As weeks passed and the tension between you and Sunghoon grew, you found yourself wrestling with your thoughts more and more. The plan you’d concocted with Wooyoung had seemed like a good idea at the time—push Sunghoon into showing his feelings by making him jealous. But now, the thought of it made you uneasy. You had seen the signs in Sunghoon—his subtle glances, the way his attention shifted to you whenever you were around. But you realized you didn’t want to force him into a corner, didn’t want to pressure him into confessing if he wasn’t ready.
The truth was, you wanted him to figure it out on his own, just as you wanted to figure out your own feelings. But that didn’t make it any easier. Your heart raced every time he was near you, and your thoughts seemed to trip over themselves when you tried to sort out what you were feeling. You didn’t want to rush things, didn’t want to push him into something that wasn’t genuine, but you were also terrified of staying in this state of tension forever.
Wooyoung, of course, noticed the change immediately. His wide grin faltered when you told him you were cutting off the plan. "You’re really giving up on this, huh?" he asked, a little disappointment creeping into his voice. "I thought you were just waiting for the perfect moment."
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I don’t want to force him into something, Wooyoung. I’m tired of all the games." You paused, the weight of your words sinking in. "I don’t even know if I’m ready to confess to him, let alone push him into it."
Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, his usual teasing expression softening for once. "You’ve got a point," he admitted. "But you know, you’ve got this… tension. Like the two of you are on the verge of something, and neither of you wants to take that step. How long are you going to let that happen?"
You glanced away, feeling your cheeks flush. "I don’t know… I’m scared, Wooyoung. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if we mess everything up by saying the wrong thing?"
He watched you for a moment, his eyes softer than usual. "You’re not alone in that fear, you know? But if you never try, you’ll never know. Just… don’t overthink it."
It was advice that made sense, but the doubt still lingered. You had always prided yourself on being confident, on taking things head-on, but with Sunghoon, everything felt so much more complicated. It wasn’t just about your feelings for him—it was about everything else too. The quiet moments you shared, the unspoken tension, the way he made you feel when he was around. You didn’t want to risk losing all of that by moving too quickly or, even worse, by never moving at all.
And yet, the longer the silence stretched between you, the harder it became to ignore. There were times when you would catch Sunghoon glancing at you across the room, when you’d catch his gaze lingering just a moment too long. And each time, you wondered if he was feeling the same things you were.
The months passed, and the tension between you two only seemed to build. Neither of you had confessed, and yet there was this invisible thread that connected you. Every laugh, every glance, every conversation seemed to deepen the unspoken bond between you. You couldn’t tell whether it was a friendship or something more, but the ambiguity felt like a heavy weight.
You still didn’t know what the right choice was. And as the year went on, you found yourself questioning whether you had made the right decision. Should you have taken the leap? Should you have forced Sunghoon into confessing, just like Wooyoung had suggested? Or was your choice to wait, to let him figure it out on his own, the right one after all?
--
The cool night air wrapped around you as you sat cross-legged on the floor of the Astronomy Tower, your eyes tracing the constellations above. It was one of those nights when the stars seemed to shine brighter, when everything around you felt still and quiet, almost too perfect for the chaotic thoughts running through your mind.
Your focus shifted as you flicked your wand, turning a nearby stone into a delicate flower for only a second before it crumbled back into dust. Sighing, you leaned back, your hands behind you, as you stared up at the sky again, wondering if you would ever find the courage to move past the endless tension with Sunghoon.
Then, just as you had almost settled into the quiet peace of the night, you heard it—a familiar sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You’d recognized the pattern of his steps by now.
Sunghoon’s silhouette appeared at the entrance to the tower, framed by the moonlight streaming in behind him. His figure was tall and steady, his usual confident demeanor not quite as present as it usually was, as if he too had come here to clear his mind.
"You always seem to find your way up here," you said without turning around, your voice quieter than usual, betraying the tension you’d been feeling.
Sunghoon paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the room until they found you, sitting on the floor, and he walked over. “I could say the same about you,” he replied, his voice softer than it had been in a while. "What’s got you up here alone?"
You shrugged, unwilling to go into details. "Just needed a break," you said, keeping your gaze on the sky. "Thought some quiet would help me clear my head."
There was a silence between you two then, a gap that seemed too long, yet neither of you spoke up to fill it. Sunghoon finally sat beside you, a little closer than you’d expected, but not quite close enough to feel intrusive.
"Practicing spells again?" Sunghoon asked after a while, glancing at the objects around you.
You nodded. "Just keeping my skills sharp. You know how it is."
Sunghoon smirked, but it was softer than usual. "I thought you only did that when you were avoiding something."
You couldn’t help but chuckle at the slight teasing tone in his voice, but you didn’t give him an answer right away. Instead, you bent down and flicked your wand again, turning a small rock into a sparkling butterfly. It fluttered around for a moment before landing gently in your palm, disappearing almost instantly. You felt a small sense of accomplishment, though it was fleeting.
Sunghoon watched you carefully, the hint of a smile still on his lips. He leaned back on his hands, settling beside you, his body warm despite the coolness of the night air.
Finally, Sunghoon broke the silence again, his voice more serious this time, a tone you weren’t used to hearing from him. "You know, you don’t have to pretend with me."
Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned to face him. His eyes met yours, the usual smirk gone.
“I’m not pretending,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly.
He shifted closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You don’t have to hide from me," he repeated, his voice softer now, with a touch of concern, or maybe something else. "I’m not like the others. You can talk to me, you know."
You were almost caught off guard by his words. Your heart raced, and your mind scrambled for something to say, something to break the sudden weight of the moment. But all you could do was stare at him, feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something.
“Sunghoon,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it was enough to make him lean in closer, his gaze softening.
"Yeah?" he said, his breath a little more measured now, as if waiting for something.
But instead of answering, you simply shook your head, unable to find the words that felt right. Instead, you focused on the stars again, trying to ground yourself in the moment.
And Sunghoon, for once, didn’t push you. He simply sat there, his body close to yours, his presence familiar and comforting.
The night air was just as crisp as the night before when you found yourself back in the Astronomy Tower, sitting on the floor, gazing up at the stars. You had come up here again, hoping for some peace and quiet, needing to clear your mind, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was lingering in the air. You were starting to feel like the Astronomy Tower was becoming your place of refuge, even if the company had changed over the past few nights.
As you sat there, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching from behind. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Sunghoon stepped into view, holding a wizard chessboard under his arm, a smirk on his face as his eyes met yours.
“You’re here early tonight,” he said, his tone light but somehow teasing, his usual confidence already in full swing.
You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth curving slightly upward. “And you’re late,” you shot back. “What’s that you’ve got there?”
“Thought we could mix it up tonight,” Sunghoon replied, setting the board down between you. "Wizard's chess."
You chuckled lightly at the idea. “You’re just trying to make this more interesting, aren’t you?”
Sunghoon grinned, shrugging. “Well, I figured it’d be more fun than just staring at the stars again.”
You didn’t argue. The quiet had been nice, but you couldn’t deny that a little challenge wouldn’t hurt. Plus, it was hard to say no when Sunghoon looked so determined to have a little fun.
With that, you both settled down and began setting up the board. It didn't take long for the first round to start. Sunghoon moved with surprising confidence, and it wasn't long before you were both deep into the game. The first round was over before you knew it—Sunghoon had won, and it seemed like he couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you about it.
“Looks like I’m just better at this than you,” he said with a cocky grin, clearly pleased with his victory. “Better luck next time.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I’ll make sure to do better next round,” you shot back, your voice filled with mock determination.
The second round began, and you could already feel your competitive streak rising. This time, it was your turn to win, and as the last piece fell, you couldn’t help but smirk at Sunghoon.
“Not bad for a second round, huh?” you teased.
Sunghoon let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll give you that one. But I won’t make it easy next time.”
The third round began, and with it came a more intense back-and-forth. “You know, if you’d actually focus, maybe you’d have a chance at winning this round,” Sunghoon taunted, leaning forward as he eyed the pieces carefully.
You shot him a smirk, not missing a beat. “Oh, I’m focused,” you replied with a wink. “I’m just letting you think you have the advantage.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, clearly amused. “Right. I’m sure that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
You both continued to play, the tension between you growing more palpable with each move.
“I have to say,” Sunghoon mused after a few more moves, “you’re actually pretty good at this. Maybe you’re not just good at charms and transfiguration.”
You smiled, proud of yourself. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. But don’t get too cocky; I’m still winning.” Sunghoon simply chuckled as the game went on.
The final move had been made, and with a smirk, you leaned back triumphantly, knowing that you had won the third round. "Looks like I’m the champion now," you teased, grinning widely at Sunghoon.
He was sitting back, his posture slouched in defeat, but there was something about the way he pouted that made you laugh softly. His eyes were still on the chessboard, as if pretending to study his loss, but you could tell he wasn’t truly bothered by it.
"Aw, don’t be like that," you teased, your voice taking on a playful tone. “It’s just a game.”
Sunghoon stayed silent, not giving you the usual comeback. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the table, pretending to ignore you. You couldn’t resist the impulse to lean in.
As soon as you leaned in closer, though, his gaze flickered up to meet yours, and in an instant, everything shifted. Both of you froze, you were so close now that you could feel his breath mingling with yours, his eyes dark and intent as he locked onto you.
You were about to pull back, unsure of what was happening, but before you could move, Sunghoon’s hand shot up, his thumb and index finger gently cupping your chin. His touch was tender, almost possessive, as he leaned closer.
"Please… don’t pull back," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his breath warm against your lips. His eyes fluttered between your eyes and your lips, clearly entranced by you, by the moment.
And then, before you could fully process what was happening, he closed the distance and kissed you. You widened your eyes in surprise, the shock of it stunning you for a brief moment, before you melted into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching out to grip his shirt.
It felt like time stopped. The world fell away, leaving only the feeling of his lips against yours, the warmth of his hand still holding your chin as he deepened the kiss.
And just when you thought you couldn’t get any closer, he suddenly moved, shifting beneath you with an ease that surprised you. In a swift motion, he pushed the chessboard aside, sending it tumbling to the floor, and then pulled you onto his lap, your thighs resting against his, while still kissing you deeply.
You gasped, the suddenness of it all catching you off guard. The shock made you stiffen, but Sunghoon only tightened his hold on you, his hand on your waist, pulling you closer, his lips never leaving yours. His kiss became more passionate, and before you knew it, his hand was tilting your head to deepen the kiss further.
When the kiss finally broke, both of you were breathless. You stayed there for a moment, your forehead resting against his, both of you just breathing in the air between you.
Sunghoon’s hand gently brushed your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. His eyes, now softer than before, locked onto yours.
“About time, don’t you think?” he whispered.
You smiled softly, the corners of your mouth turning upward in a genuine expression. “Yeah, I think so,” you replied, shifting slightly, finding a more comfortable position on his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist.
His eyes never left yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss. You melted into him, your body relaxing into the familiar embrace.
Sunghoon's hands moved to your back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get close enough. His lips moved against yours, exploring, teasing, and demanding. You responded in kind, your hands finding their way to his neck, pulling him closer.
You could feel Sunghoon's breath against your lips, his chest rising and falling with each heavy exhale. You parted your lips, inviting him in further, and he took the opportunity, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. While your hands roamed freely, tracing the lines of his muscular back, feeling the heat emanating from his skin.
When the kiss finally broke, you both were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. Sunghoon's hand gently caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your lips. "I could do this forever," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.
You smiled, a contented smile, and leaned in for another kiss, Sunghoon's hands roamed freely, tracing the contours of your body with a gentle touch. Your own hands moved to his chest, feeling the strong, defined muscles beneath your palms.
Sunghoon's lips became more demanding, more insistent. His tongue traced the outline of your lips, teasing and inviting, before plunging into your mouth, exploring every corner.
You gasped softly into the kiss, your body responding to his every touch and movement.
When Sunghoon pulled back, his eyes never left yours. He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes, before leaning in and pressing soft kisses along your throat. You leaned your head back, offering him more room to explore, your eyes closed, savoring the sensation.
His kisses became more urgent, more demanding, as he traced a path down your throat, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You could feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy, his lips moving lower, sending shivers down your spine, his lips teasing and exploring. His lips left a trail of passionate marks on your skin. His hands tugged at the robes, pulling them down to expose more of your bare skin, his touch becoming more assertive.
As he mumbled against your skin, his words were a mix of jealousy and possessiveness. "Seeing you so close with Wooyoung was driving me insane," he growled, his voice low. "You're mine, know that. I can't stand seeing you with anyone else. You're my perfect match, the woman I want, the woman I need."
His kisses became more fervent, his hands roaming over your body. "You're the only one for me. I belong to you."
Sunghoon's kisses became more demanding, his lips pressing against your throat, his teeth grazing your skin. "I want you," he murmured, his voice hoarse with passion. "I need you. You're mine, and I'll show you just how much."
"I'll always be here for you. You're the only one who can make me feel this way." His eyes locked with yours, a smile played on his lips. You returned the gesture, your eyes sparkling with love.
Sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, his touch gentle. He traced the lines of your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, as if memorizing every contour. "I love you," he whispered again, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You're the only one for me. I can't imagine my life without you."
You gazed into his eyes, feeling your heart race as his words sank deep into your soul. A warm smile tugged at your lips, and you cupped his face in your hands, gently brushing your thumb over his skin. "I love you too, Sunghoon," you murmured softly. "You're everything to me."
--
The next morning, everything felt different.
You were both quieter than usual, walking side by side down the corridors toward the Great Hall, you glanced at Sunghoon, his hand slipping into yours, fingers naturally intertwining as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His thumb gently brushed the back of your hand, a small but comforting gesture that made your heart flutter a little each time.
As you entered the Grand Hall together, the usual buzz of conversation seemed to dim, and all eyes were on you both.
You walked to the Ravenclaw table, your eyes scanning the room as people’s faces lit up with surprise and amusement. Some of your friends, like Wooyoung, gave you knowing smiles, while others were just as surprised as the rest of the students.
You sat down with Sunghoon, still holding hands under the table. He looked over at you, his expression soft and affectionate.
“Can you believe this?” you started, leaning toward Sunghoon as you started ranting, your voice low enough not to be overheard by the entire hall. “It feels like everything has been building up forever and then—boom! Suddenly everyone’s waiting for us to spill everything.”
Sunghoon listened attentively, a small smile tugging at his lips, his eyes never leaving you.
“Well,” he said, his voice soft but teasing, “I’m pretty sure everyone had bets on us getting together.”
You paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Wait, what? People bet on us?”
Sunghoon chuckled softly, his hand still holding yours under the table. “Oh, yeah. You didn’t know?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “We’re that obvious, huh?”
“Apparently,” he said, his smile widening, he gently nudged you with his shoulder, his eyes glinting with affection. Without even thinking, you leaned in and gave him a quick, soft peck on the lips, the sweet, gentle gesture drawing a few surprised gasps and murmurs from nearby students.
You pulled away, grinning as you glanced around the table. “Well, that’s one way to shut them up.”
Sunghoon’s grin matched yours, and he shook his head, his cheeks flushed ever so slightly.
Some students were staring at you both with wide eyes, while others exchanged knowing glances, happy to see the two of you together. You could hear a few whispers, some offering congratulations, others teasing.
As you ate, you caught sight of Wooyoung at the other end of the table, giving you a thumbs up and a wide grin, clearly excited for the two of you.
“I guess we’re official now, huh?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with a little wonder.
Sunghoon nodded, his smile softening. “Yeah. Officially impossible to avoid.”
You laughed, leaning into his side for a moment before picking up your fork and continuing with your breakfast.
Wooyoung, of course, was the one who couldn't resist coming up to you at the given moment, a mischievous grin on his face. “I mean, I knew you two were perfect for each other. Now you have to admit I was right.” He dramatically threw an arm around your shoulders as you walked to class
You simply laughed, shaking your head.
--
The day of graduation arrived, and while the rest of the students was buzzing with excitement—filled with laughter and celebration—you found yourself slipping away from the crowded common room, seeking something more intimate, something quiet. You made your way up to the Astronomy Tower, the cool night air greeting you as you pushed open the door.
There, sitting by the edge of the tower, was Sunghoon, already waiting for you. His dark hair ruffled in the gentle breeze, and he looked so serene, so at peace in this moment that you couldn’t help but smile as you walked over to him. He turned his head as you approached, his eyes softening with affection when they met yours. Without a word, he opened his arms, and you slid into them, resting your head on his shoulder as you both gazed out at the stars together.
After a while, Sunghoon shifted, reaching into his robes with a faint smile, and pulled out a neatly wrapped box. He handed it to you, his eyes warm and full of anticipation.
"I’ve been meaning to give you this," he murmured, his voice soft in the stillness of the night.
Carefully, you peeled away the paper, revealing a small, elegant box. The surface was silver, polished to a shine, and you could see hints of blue around the edges. You ran your fingers over it for a moment before slowly opening the lid.
When you saw what was inside, your breath caught in your throat.
Two clocks, side by side, each gleaming with silver on the outside and a deep, beautiful blue on the inside. Intricate stars were imprinted on the faces of the clocks, each marking the hours with delicate precision. But it wasn’t just the time they showed. Both clocks also had a compass on it—N, S, E, W—engraved in elegant script.
Sunghoon smiled softly as he watched your reaction, the warmth of his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “It’s for us,” he said quietly. "I wanted to give you something that would remind you of us.”
You stared at the clocks for a moment, overwhelmed by the gesture, before you looked up at him. “Sunghoon… this is…” You didn’t know how to express what you felt, the words stuck in your throat.
“Open it,” he said, motioning to the other clock. With a curious tilt of your head, you reached over and carefully opened the glass of the second clock. The moment you did, a soft golden light began to swirl out, slowly forming into a shape. You watched, transfixed, as the golden light took form and danced in the air, weaving together until it became the image of you and Sunghoon—dancing together, caught in an eternal waltz as a beautiful, melodic tune filled the space around you.
You gasped, your hand going to your mouth in surprise and wonder. It was perfect, beautiful in a way you never could have imagined. You glanced at Sunghoon, your eyes wide, and he smiled back at you, his eyes just as captivated.
He opened his own clock, and the same golden light poured out, swirling in the air before it also took shape, the same dance playing out for him as well. His gaze never wavered from you as the music continued to play from both the clocks.
You couldn’t help but smile, your heart full as you looked up at Sunghoon. “This… this is beautiful,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.
Sunghoon’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his hand reaching to gently cup your face. “I wanted you to have something to remember me by, even when we’re apart,” he said, his voice full of meaning.
Before you could reply, you leaned in, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. You felt him hold you back, his embrace warm and steady, the comfort you’d come to rely on. “I’ll never forget this,” you whispered, “I promise.”
--
The day of your departure arrived with a bittersweet air, the sky painted in soft pastels as dawn crept over the horizon. You stood on the edge of the dock, your packed bags at your feet, glancing back at the shore as you tried to memorize every detail of his face. Sunghoon stood before you, his expression torn between pride and sadness.
Sunghoon had just secured a permanent position at the Ministry—a rare opportunity. But you had your own opportunity, and the call for adventure had been tugging at you for as long as you could remember. You had already been offered a mission that would take you to distant lands and across oceans. It was everything you had always wanted.
Sunghoon’s hand lingered on your arm as he looked at you, his voice a quiet plea, “You really have to go?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you looked into his eyes. “I do,” you whispered, the words heavy with both excitement and sorrow. “But I’ll come back, Sunghoon. I promise.” Your voice wavered, but you steadied it with a smile, reaching to brush a strand of hair from his face. “Will you… wait for me?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Of course I will,” he replied, his voice strong and certain, as though the very idea of waiting for you was as natural as breathing. His fingers wrapped around yours, his touch warm and grounding. “I’d wait as long as it takes. Just come back to me.”
You nodded, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. Then, his lips found yours in a kiss that held a hundred unspoken promises.
As the final boarding call echoed through the harbor, you reluctantly pulled back, whispering one last, “Goodbye, Sunghoon.”
He offered you a small, brave smile, and with a last squeeze of your hand, he let you go. You climbed onto the boat, joining the other passengers. As the vessel began to pull away from the dock, you stood by the railing, watching him grow smaller with each passing second. Sunghoon lifted his hand in a final wave, and you threw one back, watching as he brought his hand to his mouth and sent you a flying kiss, his eyes never leaving you.
You clutched the railing, feeling the sting of tears but forcing a smile, a mixture of sorrow and exhilaration filling your chest. As the boat carried you into the unknown, you kept your eyes on him until he was nothing more than a speck on the horizon.
Your days got filled with adventure, traveling through vast, uncharted landscapes, rescuing rare creatures, and studying them closely. You documented each discovery, scribbling notes about their behaviors and habitats. Alongside your journal of field notes, you kept a separate stack of parchment, devoted solely to letters for Sunghoon. Every new place held a piece of him in it, something you wanted to share, some wonder or funny moment that you could only imagine him smiling at.
And he always replied, his letters rich with life back home—updates from the Ministry, stories about mutual friends, and playful teases about your escapades. You looked forward to every letter, savoring the small glimpses of him through the familiar strokes of his handwriting, each one a reminder of the life and love waiting for you.
But one month, his letters stopped coming.
You brushed it off at first, thinking maybe he was just busy or that there was a delay in the postal owls. But when another month passed without a single word, a sense of worry began to settle in your chest. You sent him a new letter, keeping it light-hearted but laced with an unmistakable undertone of concern, hoping he’d notice and send some sort of reassuring response.
But again, nothing came.
With each passing day, the silence grew heavier, until every rustle of feathers outside your tent made your heart race, only to end in disappointment. As more weeks passed, you found yourself sending letters more frequently, each one shorter but more urgent, your worry gradually bleeding into your words.
The unease gnawed at you, your once joyful routine now tainted with an ever-present sense of dread. Every empty day brought more questions—was he hurt? Was he in trouble? Had something happened?
One quiet morning, as you were packing up your campsite nestled in the foothills of the Pyrenees, a Ministry owl swooped down through the trees, its wings stretched wide and a letter clutched tightly in its talons. You straightened up, brushing off a bit of dust as you reached out, and the owl settled onto your forearm with surprising patience. It offered the letter, a pristine parchment sealed with the unmistakable stamp of the Ministry of Magic.
Curious, you took it, feeling the weight of the thick, neatly folded paper as you broke the wax seal.
As you unfolded the letter, a few crisp lines of text caught your attention immediately.
“You are hereby requested to present yourself at the Ministry of Magic for a formal review and trial regarding the research conducted and documented during your travels.”
You read it once, then again, trying to piece together the intentions behind the message. A formal trial? For your research? The Ministry had always been aware of your work with magical creatures, especially since you regularly submitted reports to protect and conserve species that had been neglected. You’d even been granted clearance to travel beyond regulated zones, so why the sudden summons?
You hummed softly, contemplating the letter with a mix of curiosity and unease. It wasn’t every day the Ministry reached out with such formality, and it certainly wasn’t the usual tone you received from them.
You weren’t sure whether to be nervous, intrigued, or just plain confused. You’d spent so much of your time studying and protecting magical creatures, especially those forgotten by the wizarding world, that the thought of a trial for it felt… off. You had no idea why they’d be interested in you, but you were more than willing to go and see what they wanted.
Just as you were about to read it again, you felt a gentle push at your side. With a giggle, you turned and looked at the creature that had nudged you—Erebus, the Hebridean Black dragon you’d rescued some months ago. His large, dark eyes gleamed up at you, and you reached out instinctively to scratch under his chin. His scales shimmered in the late afternoon sun, and his powerful wings rustled with a slight shift, his massive form bending slightly to press against you affectionately.
"Hey, hey, buddy," you said with a soft laugh. "No need to get pushy, I see you there."
You knew full well that Erebus had grown attached to you ever since you had saved him. He was a creature that had been bound, tortured, and left to die in a dungeon before you found him. Healing him had been a challenge, but when you saw the life come back into his eyes, the pride of the dragon slowly awakening as he learned to trust again, it was worth it. Erebus wasn’t just a rescued creature—he was your companion, your friend. And he had stayed with you ever since.
You glanced at the letter again. "I’ve got to go to the Ministry, it seems. They're asking for me."
Erebus snorted at the letter, a cloud of smoke billowing from his nostrils. You coughed and waved the smoke away. "Okay, okay, I get it. Not exactly ideal, right?" You smiled, running a hand over his scales. "But I’m not sure how much of a choice I have."
You looked at the open sky, mentally preparing yourself for the journey ahead.
“Looks like our plans to get you home will have to wait,” you murmured, holding up the Ministry’s letter.
You quickly took out your wand, and with a swish, your camp, all your notes, and the little research station you had set up around you swirled into a tidy, compact form, sucked into your magically expanded suitcase. The suitcase, a nifty little thing inspired by none other than Newt Scamander himself, whose work had been a guiding light for you since your early days as a student. You hoped that one day, you’d be able to follow in his footsteps as a trusted protector of magical creatures.
It had become indispensable during your travels, allowing you to carry your work with you wherever you went. Erebus watched as the suitcase opened and the whirlwind of your belongings was sucked inside, his wings twitching in mild curiosity.
"Alright, buddy," you said with a soft smile, glancing at him. "Time to go home… for a bit."
Erebus made a low rumble and flapped his wings. His deep growl seemed almost resigned, but you could tell he didn’t mind. He had grown used to these travels with you. He flew up effortlessly, circling above your head a few times, before swooping down and slipping neatly into the suitcase as though he’d done it a thousand times before.
"Good boy," you said with a smile, and with a soft click, you closed the suitcase, feeling its weight shift in your hand.
With a deep breath, you started walking, leaving the small, once-familiar encampment behind.
--
You stepped into the bustling atrium of the Ministry of Magic, clutching your suitcase tightly as you navigated the maze of witches, wizards, and magical beings bustling around you. The air was filled with the echoes of conversations, the hum of enchanted typewriters clattering away on desks, and the occasional whoosh of a fireplace activating, delivering someone in a puff of emerald flames.
Keeping a firm grip on your suitcase, you weaved your way through the crowd, nodding politely to a few familiar faces and doing your best to avoid making eye contact with anyone who might delay you. When you reached the elevators, the gate clanged open, and you stepped inside.
A house-elf stood on tiptoes near the control panel, staring up at you with large, curious eyes. “Which floor, miss?”
“Level Ten, please,” you replied, your voice steady despite the knot of anticipation tightening in your stomach.
The elf pressed a large, brass button marked with the number "10." The elevator jolted, and you gripped the suitcase handle a little tighter as the floors began to blur past, each accompanied by a soft chime.
After what felt like an eternity, the elevator slowed and came to a halt. The house-elf opened the gate, giving you an encouraging nod. You stepped out into the quiet, dimly lit hallway, your footsteps echoing as you moved. You walked up to a high desk where a stern-looking goblin sat, peering over a thick ledger with tiny, round spectacles perched on the end of his nose. He glanced up as you approached, his sharp eyes narrowing with curiosity as he took in your travel-worn appearance.
“What business do you have here?” he asked, his voice clipped but not unkind.
“I received a letter from the Ministry,” you said, pulling the official notice from your coat pocket and holding it up. “There’s a trial regarding my research.”
The goblin took the letter, inspecting it with a keen eye before nodding curtly. He flipped through a hefty stack of parchment, his long, nimble fingers moving quickly as he scanned each page. Finally, he gave a satisfied grunt and pushed the letter back toward you.
“Please have a seat,” he instructed, nodding toward a row of chairs against the wall. “Someone will come to escort you shortly.”
You thanked him and moved over to the chairs, your suitcase resting against your legs.
You had been sitting quietly in the waiting area, your thoughts whirling, when you saw Jungwon approaching. You recognized him immediately — a Gryffindor from your years at Hogwarts, though you never had much of a chance to get to know him personally. His warm smile caught you off guard, and you blinked as he stopped in front of you, his eyes twinkling with recognition.
"Hey," he greeted, his tone light and friendly. "Please, follow me."
You nodded, standing up as you grabbed your suitcase and followed him down the hall.
“So, how have you been?” Jungwon asked casually, casting a glance over his shoulder as you walked beside him. "It's been a while since Hogwarts, huh?"
You hummed in agreement, trying to place him better. You'd seen him around, but your interactions had always been limited. He was close to Sunghoon, wasn’t he?
“I’ve been well,” you answered, pulling your thoughts together as you walked, eyes flicking to the side. “So, uh… what’s this trial about?”
Jungwon shrugged nonchalantly, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Honestly, I’m not really sure. Ministry business, you know?”
Your curiosity couldn’t be quelled, though. “What about Sunghoon? How is he?” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.
Jungwon froze mid-step, and you followed his lead, watching as he turned to face you. His expression shifted, no longer the light, easygoing one he had worn just moments before. There was a sadness in his eyes, a quiet heaviness that you hadn’t anticipated.
For a moment, he seemed reluctant to answer, then he sighed. “Sunghoon’s… well. I mean, he’s okay. But,” he paused, studying your face carefully, “he found someone else.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you weren’t sure you had heard him correctly. “What?” The word felt foreign coming from your mouth, like a punch that left you stunned. “He… moved on?”
Jungwon nodded slowly, a faint frown tugging at his lips. “Yeah. A few weeks ago, actually. Sunghoon became… really different. Quiet, withdrawn. Wouldn’t speak much, and then, out of nowhere, he started showing up with Ju-Won. She’s an Auror too, like him. They’re together now. They’re engaged.”
Your chest felt tight, the air suddenly thicker as a lump formed in your throat. Sunghoon had promised. He had promised to wait for you. But here he was, with someone else. A fiancee.
You looked down at the floor, blinking rapidly to clear the stinging sensation behind your eyes. The room felt smaller, like you were suffocating, and you couldn’t understand why the weight of this hurt so much. You hadn’t expected Sunghoon to wait forever, but you didn’t think he’d let go so easily.
Jungwon shifted uncomfortably, noticing the change in your expression, but he didn’t press the issue further.
You felt numb as you followed Jungwon down the long corridor, his words echoing painfully in your mind. Sunghoon… had found someone else? You struggled to maintain your composure as Jungwon walked beside you, keeping a respectful silence.
He eventually stopped in front of a tall, polished door. “This is where they’ll be holding your trial,” he said gently. “You’ll be called in shortly.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.
Jungwon hesitated for a moment, studying you with quiet sympathy. It felt like he wanted to say something, perhaps offer some kind of comfort, but he seemed to decide against it, only giving you a slight nod before stepping into the room to take his place. You were left alone in the dimly lit hallway, your heart pounding. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on the present. Whatever happened with Sunghoon, you would face it later. For now, you had a duty to the creatures you’d studied.
The door opened again, and an official leaned out to call you in. You squared your shoulders, lifted your chin, and stepped through the doorway.
The room was silent as you entered, only the shuffling of your footsteps echoing off the cold, stone walls. You took a seat in the lone chair positioned in the center of the room, feeling the weight of several pairs of eyes on you. Around you sat a panel of stern-faced Aurors, their expressions unreadable, though a few cast glances at one another as you settled in.
A head Auror, an older witch with sharp eyes and a set jaw, leaned forward. “We’ve received reports about your research,” she began, her voice crisp. “Could you give us an update on the… progress?”
You took a steadying breath and sat up straighter, the words flowing more easily than you expected. "I’ve made significant strides. I’ve been able to identify new species and create methods for safely caring for previously misunderstood creatures. I've also created healing treatments for certain species that were previously unmedicated." You shifted uncomfortably, but you managed to keep your voice steady.
Then came the dreaded question. “And have you rescued any creatures considered… dangerous?” another Auror asked, his tone laced with skepticism.
You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “Not dangerous if treated with respect,” you replied slowly, though you could feel their eyes narrowing, their skepticism deepening. The more you spoke, the more their expressions tightened.
After you finished, the lead Auror exchanged a glance with her colleagues before turning back to you. “You must understand, there are serious concerns about the dangers of these creatures. The potential for harm — not only to yourself but to others — is considerable.”
Another Auror stood, arms crossed, his voice dismissive. "You expect us to believe that every dangerous creature can be domesticated, tamed even? You do realize some of them are classified as too hazardous for interaction with the public?"
You met his gaze, trying not to show how much it rattled you. "My research shows that with the right methods, creatures like the Hungarian Horntail or the Manticore can be approached safely. I've helped them—rescued them—from illegal situations, from being exploited and misused." You said firmly.
"They're not dangerous if treated properly. With the right care, understanding, and respect, any creature can be manageable." You said earnestly, hoping they could see your perspective. “The true danger lies in the lack of understanding—”
But your words were cut short as she raised a hand, her tone turning icy. “Regardless, we cannot ignore the potential risks. Until further investigation is completed, you will be placed in custody for the time being.”
Before you could fully register her words, two wizards stepped forward, their expressions unyielding. One reached for your suitcase, wrenching it from your grasp, while the other grabbed your arms, twisting them behind your back. "Let go!" you shouted, trying to twist away, but the grip on your arms only tightened.
"We have our orders," the Auror said coldly, his face stoic as the other wizard snatched your wand away.
"No, please," you pleaded, your voice rising in panic. "I’m not a threat. They’re not a threat! Please, don’t hurt them!"
The Auror didn’t respond, and you felt the heavy presence of the two men as they dragged you from the room, your footsteps stumbling as they led you down the cold stone corridors. They escorted you to a small cell, shoving you inside before locking the heavy iron door with a dull clang.
You sank to the floor, the cold seeping into your bones as the reality of the situation settled over you. The Ministry was truly going to investigate your work, your methods, your intentions — as if you were some criminal. As if the creatures you loved and fought for were merely threats, rather than lives in need of protection.
As you pressed your back against the wall, feeling the weight of the day’s events pressing down, a tiny warmth stirred in the pocket of your shirt. You looked down and saw Kai, your small fire salamander, peeking out with his bright eyes, looking up at you with a gentle curiosity.
Gently, you cupped him in your hands, letting him sit on your palm as he looked around, with a small, trembling smile, you whispered, “Guess it’s just us for now, Kai.”
You gently placed Kai down on the stone floor, the warmth of his small body still lingering in your hands. You rummaged through your pockets, searching for something that could help, anything that would make sense of the mess you found yourself in. Herbs, a magnifying glass, food for creatures, parchment, ink—nothing useful.
As you sighed and leaned down, when a small fluttering noise caught your attention. Lena, your tiny pixie, had emerged from under your coat and was now fluttering around the cell, her tiny wings flapping excitedly. She squeaked, the sound high-pitched and curious as she zipped around the dim space. You smiled faintly at the sight of her, but your thoughts were too heavy to focus on her antics for long.
Your fingers brushed the cool edges of your pockets until something caught on the fabric. For a moment, you thought it was just some misplaced trinket, but as you pulled it out and saw its familiar shape, your breath hitched.
It was the clock that Sunghoon had gifted you at graduation, still in pristine condition despite everything. You had almost forgotten about it—thinking it misplaced, or perhaps stolen by one of the nifflers in your suitcase. But there it was. The clock.
You ran your fingers over the intricate silver design, the blue inner face still shimmering under the dim light. With a shaky breath, you slowly opened the glass. A soft golden light began to swirl from the clock’s center, and you froze, mesmerized by the familiar vision of you and Sunghoon dancing—just as it had been when you first opened it. The music filled the cell softly, the melody so beautiful and haunting, it almost felt like he was here with you.
Kai curled up beside you, his flame-like body flickering faintly in the dim light. Lena hovered just above your head, watching the clock with curious eyes. You took a deep breath, closing the glass gently, the music fading as you sealed it shut.
But then, unexpectedly, the music played again.
This time, it wasn’t your melody. The sweet, familiar tune was still there, but it felt different. Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could process the strangeness of it, Kai’s small squeak interrupted your thoughts. You looked up, and what you saw made your breath catch in your throat.
There, standing on the other side of the bars, was Sunghoon, holding his own clock in his hand, the same golden light flickering from it.
"Sunghoon…" you whispered, your voice barely audible, a wave of relief rushing over you, followed by a knot in your throat as you realized he was here.
He glanced at you, his eyes softening, though they weren’t as warm as you remembered. There was something different in them, something you couldn’t quite place. He closed the clock with a decisive motion and met your eyes.
"You’re… okay?" you asked quietly, your heart pounding in your chest as you walked closer to the bars, your hands reaching out instinctively.
"I’m fine," he said, his voice calm but distant. "But you—what happened? Why are you here?"
You tried to explain, your words stumbling out as you told him everything—how you had been summoned by the Ministry, how they had misunderstood your work, how they’d locked you away. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten as you spoke, but he didn’t interrupt.
When you finished, you couldn’t help but ask the question that had been gnawing at your mind ever since you’d seen him. "Sunghoon, what happened? Why didn’t you answer my letters? I… I sent so many. Why didn’t you—"
He turned away for a moment, running a hand through his hair. You could see the conflict in his movements, the hesitation, and for a brief second, your heart dropped. It was as if he was trying to find the right words. "I… I waited for you," he finally said, his voice soft, almost too soft. "I waited, but you never came back. I kept writing, but I didn’t hear from you."
You felt a tightness in your chest as you processed his words. "What do you mean? I sent you letters, Sunghoon! I didn’t stop writing! How could you not know?" you asked, your voice rising slightly.
He looked back at you, his face confused. "I don’t know. I thought you just… didn’t come back. Didn’t answer. Then, my parents…" He trailed off, clearly struggling. "They found Ju-Won for me. I—I didn’t know what to do. And then Jungwon came to me after the trial. He told me about you being here, and I couldn’t believe it."
Your breath caught in your throat. "Ju-Won?" you whispered, the name like an icy hand on your heart.
He shook his head slowly. "I never wanted this. But I thought… maybe you had moved on, that you weren’t coming back." His voice cracked just slightly.
You looked at him, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over you. "No, Sunghoon… I never… I never moved on. I sent you letters because I was coming back for you, I was always coming back."
Sunghoon’s expression shifted, a quiet realization flickering across his features. He took a step forward, his hand trembling slightly before he reached out to gently caress your cheek. The touch was so soft, so tender, that it almost felt like a dream.
“You’re still as beautiful as the day you left…” His voice was low, his words barely more than a whisper, but they cut through the heavy silence between you two, settling in your heart like a soft ache.
A stray tear slipped from your eye, and you didn’t even realize it had fallen until Sunghoon gently wiped it away with his thumb.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said, his voice firm now. "I promise, I’ll get you out of here."
You felt your chest tighten, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. Your heart felt torn, as if it was caught between the relief of seeing Sunghoon again and the panic of the mess you were in. "Please, Sunghoon… don’t let anyone harm my creatures."
He nodded, his gaze softening as he promised, "I won’t let them touch your creatures. I’ll take care of everything."
Then, to your surprise, he took your hand and kissed it softly, the warm pressure of his lips lingering for a brief moment. "I’ll be back soon. Stay safe, okay?"
You nodded, unable to form words as he turned and walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading, leaving you alone in the cold cell once again.
You sat back down against the cold stone wall, the silence of the prison pressing in on you.
Kai curled up on your lap, his warmth a small comfort amidst the uncertainty. Lena hovered nearby, her small face full of concern.
You didn’t know what to do now but wait and hope—hope that Sunghoon could undo the mess, that your creatures would remain safe.
After what felt like endless hours, you finally heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. Jungwon appeared at the cell door, a familiar reassuring smile on his face as he unlocked the door and motioned for you to follow. You stood up, heart pounding, and fell into step beside him.
“What happened?” you asked, searching his expression for answers, but he only gave you a gentle smile.
“Come with me,” he said simply, guiding you back through the winding halls of the Ministry to the trial room. The familiar sight of the council waited for you, but this time, the atmosphere was far less severe. You sat down in the chair at the center, your heart hammering in your chest, and looked up at the head Auror as he cleared his throat.
"We’d like to extend our apologies. We received a tip that you were harboring magical creatures with intent to use them against the Ministry," he explained. "After thorough investigation, however, we've concluded that the tip was unfounded. We see now that you only meant to help the creatures in your care."
A wave of relief washed over you, and a smile broke across your face as the head Auror nodded, officially releasing you as innocent. Jungwon stepped forward, his own smile widening, and handed you back your wand. You clasped it tightly, feeling a sense of calm return now that it was back in your hands.
“Thank you,” you said quietly. “What about my creatures? Where are they?”
"Follow me," Jungwon said, his tone lighter now. He led you down a quiet corridor, explaining as you went, "Sunghoon took them under his care. He didn’t trust anyone else to keep them safe."
You sighed in relief, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. Finally, Jungwon stopped in front of a door, pushed it open, and gestured for you to enter.
Inside, Sunghoon stood by a desk, his expression tense, and his brows knit together in a rare display of anger. He looked up when he heard you enter, his expression softening, though a hint of frustration remained.
“Sunghoon… what happened?” you asked gently, stepping closer to him.
He clenched his jaw before answering, “It was my parents. They were behind everything.” His voice was low, controlled, but you could sense the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “They hid your letters from me. They sent the tip to the Ministry to have you arrested. And they set me up with Ju-won to… try to make me forget you.”
The revelation hit you like a cold wave. You shook your head, barely able to process the extent of what he was saying. "Your parents did all of that?"
Sunghoon nodded, his eyes searching yours. “They wanted me to move on, to find someone ‘suitable’—someone who fit their idea of a perfect match for me.” He took a shaky breath, looking away for a moment before his gaze returned to you. “I'm so sorry… I should have fought harder, questioned things more. I should have known something wasn’t right.”
You stepped forward, reaching for his hand, holding it tightly. “None of this is your fault, Sunghoon. You didn’t know, and neither did I.”
He nodded, his thumb brushing over your hand as he held it, and his expression softened. "I promise, I won’t let anyone keep us apart again." Sunghoon sighed, his eyes hardening as he pulled off the engagement ring, placing it on the desk without a second glance. He turned to you, a reassuring smile replacing the coldness from a moment ago, and handed over your suitcase.
You exhaled a breath of relief, hugging the suitcase close to your chest. “Thank you… for everything.”
“Come on,” Sunghoon said with a gentle smile, his hand resting protectively on your back as he guided you out. As you walked, you shared stories about the magical creatures you’d encountered on your travels, and he recounted a few of his more daring Auror missions.
But then, a sudden scream echoed down the corridor. You both turned to see a striking witch with dark hair and a sharp, furious expression storming toward you. Sunghoon’s arm instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you close.
“Sunghoon, how dare you!” she spat, her voice venomous. “You broke off our engagement for… for her?” She glared at you, eyes filled with barely contained rage. Her voice turned shrill as she pointed a finger in your face. “Do you know what you’ve cost me? The riches, the influence, the Park name—it was all right there!”
You slapped her hand away, your own anger flaring as you met her gaze unflinchingly. “Maybe you should’ve focused on him instead of what he could give you.”
Ju-won’s face twisted in rage, and you saw her hand rise, ready to strike you. But before she could even get close, Lena darted out of your pocket in a flash of blue light. The little pixie squeaked angrily, grabbing a fistful of Ju-won’s hair and tugging with surprising strength.
Ju-won shrieked, swatting at Lena in a desperate attempt to free herself, but Lena only pulled harder, her squeaks of defiance echoing in the hall. The few Ministry workers nearby stopped, eyes wide, as they took in the scene with shock.
“Get it off! Get it off!” Ju-won screeched, struggling against Lena’s relentless hold.
At last, with a little triumphant squeak, Lena released Ju-won’s hair and zoomed back to you, settling into your shoulder pocket. Ju-won stumbled back, face red with fury and humiliation, her hair in complete disarray.
Ju-won’s face twisted with fury when she suddenly pulled out two clocks from her pocket, dangling them from the strings with a victorious grin. “Oh, I will not be cast aside like this!” she spat, voice rising with a venomous edge. “You think you can have everything, don’t you?” she sneered. “Well, let’s see how it feels when something you want is taken from you.”
Both you and Sunghoon stiffened, the realization hitting like a punch to the gut. You immediately began patting yourself down, confirming what you feared—the clock was missing. She stole them. The heavy weight of anger settled over you as you watched her mockingly dangle them in the air.
“Ju-won. Give them back, now.” Sunghoon’s voice was low and commanding, each word sharp with fury.
You stepped forward, frustration bubbling inside you. “Those belong to us. You have no right to take them.”
“No!” Ju-won shouted, clutching the clocks tightly in her fists. With a spiteful glare, she spun around and hurled the clocks toward the nearest fireplace. The green flames of the Floo Network flared up, threatening to consume them.
Your wand was halfway out of your pocket, ready to cast Accio, but before you could speak, a familiar, small, furry figure leapt through the air. With nimble agility, a niffler intercepted the clocks mid-flight, snatching them away from the flames and landing safely on the floor.
The niffler scurried over to Sunghoon, who leaned down, carefully taking both clocks from its little paws. He gave the creature an affectionate pat. “Thank you, Spark.”
Spark beamed up at you, his eyes shining with the same mischievous glint they had from back at Hogwarts. He darted over to you, leaping up into your arms, and you caught him, laughing. “Hey, long time no see, buddy!”
Ju-won’s face twisted in disbelief as Sunghoon straightened, his eyes fierce. He addressed her with a calm authority that made her shrink back. “Ju-won, what you did today only shows that you don’t belong here,” he said, his voice low and unyielding. He leaned in, murmuring something sharp and private into her ear that made her face go pale.
With a final huff, Ju-won spun on her heel, face flushed with humiliation as she hurried away, avoiding the gazes of everyone around.
Afterwards Sunghoon led you toward a nearby fireplace with a small smile, gesturing for you to step in. Together, you went through the Floo Network, the swirling green flames transporting you both to a room that was both luxurious and filled with a sense of calm.
“Welcome to my room,” he said with a soft smile.
You looked around, taking in the warmth of the space. “I can’t believe Spark stayed with you all this time,” you said.
Sunghoon chuckled, “I could never let him go. He’s been a great companion. Right, Spark?”
Spark squeaked in response to that. “Would you like to meet some other nifflers, Spark?” You asked and watched as his eyes lit up, and he nodded excitedly. You laughed, reaching for your suitcase and opening it on the floor. Climbing down into it, you looked back up and beckoned to Sunghoon. “Come on in!”
Sunghoon hesitated for a moment, but curiosity won over, and he followed you. Inside, you led him through various sections of your enchanted suitcase, each with unique landscapes and ecosystems for the creatures you cared for. Sunghoon looked around, marveling at the sheer life around him.
Eventually, you reached the area where you kept your nifflers. With a quick call, five of them scampered out, their fur shining under the magical light. Spark chirped in excitement and darted forward, joining his new friends. You straightened up, watching with amusement as Lena, flitted out of your pocket and disappeared somewhere in the terrain.
You turned to Sunghoon, catching the awe in his expression. Smiling, you took his hand, guiding him through the different environments until you stopped by a stone ledge. With a short whistle, you called out, and the ground trembled slightly. Emerging from a large cave opening, Erebus, lowered his head, scales glistening with an otherworldly sheen as he rumbled softly in greeting.
Sunghoon took a small step back, looking at Erebus with a mix of fear and awe. You laughed softly, reaching for his hand again. “It’s okay,” you said gently. “He trusts me, and he’ll trust you, too.”
Sunghoon looked at you, searching your eyes before nodding. Slowly, you guided his hand forward, placing it against the warm, textured scales under Erebus’s jaw. The dragon rumbled again, leaning slightly into Sunghoon’s hand, a deep, pleased purr vibrating through him.
“See?” you whispered, smiling as Sunghoon’s gaze softened in amazement.
Sunghoon kept his hand steady, glancing between you and the massive dragon before him. Erebus leaned further into his touch, his dark eyes half-closing in contentment. Sunghoon exhaled a quiet laugh, a mixture of relief and wonder.
"I never imagined I'd be doing this," he murmured, glancing at you with a warm smile. "You've always had a way with creatures."
You grinned, feeling a swell of pride. "Erebus is special. I rescued him from a terrible situation, and ever since, we’ve had this bond." You gave Erebus a gentle pat before he pulled back, lifting his great head and retreating into the shadows of his sanctuary.
As Erebus disappeared, you turned to face Sunghoon fully. The awe hadn't left his expression. "I can see why you love this work," he said softly. "I missed seeing this side of you."
A warmth blossomed in your chest. "I missed having someone who understood," you replied, voice just above a whisper. "I always wanted to share this with you."
Sunghoon’s gaze softened, and without another word, he leaned in slowly, giving you time to close the remaining distance. The world seemed to fade as his lips met yours, gentle at first, then deepening as you both leaned into each other.
When you finally parted, both of you were breathless, but his forehead rested against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“It’s you and me now, Sunghoon,” you whispered.
He nodded, his eyes sparkling as he took your hand. "Forever, if you’ll have me."
As you leaned up, pressing your lips against Sunghoon's, he responded with a passion that ignited a fire within you. His hand cupped your cheek, While his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get enough of your warmth and presence.
As the kiss lingered, Sunghoon's hands moved down to your thighs, his fingers tracing the soft skin. He lifted you up gently, his strong arms supporting your weight, and placed you on the table, your legs wrapping around his waist. Sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, his touch becoming more assertive, more confident. He traced the lines of your waist, his fingers grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
When the kiss broke, you both were breathless, your hearts pounding in your chests. Sunghoon's hand gently caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your lips. "I want you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion, his eyes filled with desire, caressing your legs, his touch gentle yet firm. His fingers traced the curves of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.
His kisses became more intense, his lips moving from your neck to your collarbone, leaving a trail of passionate marks. His teeth grazed your skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and lust. "I can't get enough of you." He came up to kiss you again. His lips met yours in a gentle, tender kiss. "You make me feel alive, like no one else ever has," he whispered against your lips, his voice hoarse with passion. "I'll always protect and cherish you." He murmured.
And as the kiss deepened, the sweet, familiar melody of your clocks began to chime, the golden swirls dancing out of their glass coverings on the table where Spark sat proudly, watching the scene unfold. The soft notes filled the room, adding a layer of warmth to your embrace, and you both smiled slightly against each other’s lips.
Sunghoon’s hand brushed along your cheek, wiping away the happy tears that had formed there. He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed out softly. His eyes were filled with love, a love that glowed even brighter than the melody around you. Sunghoon looked down at you, his gaze filled with warmth. He took a steadying breath before murmuring, “Would you make me the happiest wizard in the world by becoming mine…forever?”
Your heart raced, and without hesitation, you beamed up at him, feeling a happiness you hadn’t known could exist. “Yes, Sunghoon,” you replied, voice filled with joy. “A million times, yes.”
His smile broke into a brilliant grin, and before you knew it, he was sweeping you off your feet. You laughed, the sound echoing through the room. “You make me so, so happy,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve never stopped loving you, not even for a moment.”
#enhypen fic#park sunghoon#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon enhypen#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x you#park sunghoon imagines#sunghoon imagines#fanfiction#fanfic#park sunghoon enhypen#hogwarts au#kpop fanfic
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I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43
an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this
summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.
wc: 4.4k
She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.
She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.
Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.
Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.
It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?
It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.
No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.
The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.
Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.
And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”
He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.
And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.
“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.
Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”
There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.
“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.
“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.
His first race was in Monza.
And Franco had made sure she’d be there.
The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.
She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.
She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.
“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”
She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.
“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”
It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”
The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”
A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”
The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”
It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.
“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”
The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.
As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”
She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.
And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.
The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.
The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.
A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.
“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”
“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”
He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”
She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”
He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”
She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.
“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”
“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”
For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.
“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”
She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”
He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.
“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.
“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”
She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.
He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”
The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.
She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.
“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.
“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.
She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.
When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.
Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.
It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.
“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”
She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.
“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”
Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”
She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”
Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.
Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.
“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”
Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”
She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.
“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.
Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. “But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”
And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.
A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.
She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.
Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.
“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”
She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.
He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”
She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”
“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”
But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.
Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.
But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.
Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.
She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.
By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.
Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.
“¡Mira! Is that really you?”
She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.
“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.
He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”
“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.
“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.
She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.
The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”
He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”
They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.
As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.
Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.
to be continued…?
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one x reader#formula one#formula one x y/n#franco colapinto x yn#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto#fc43#fc43 x reader#fc43 x you#fc43 imagine#williams racing formula one#williams formula 1#williams f1#williams racing#williams#formula one x you#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula 1#ann speaks#ann talks#angsty#angst#franc colapinto angst
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Passive Aggressive Cap goes viral with the media. Because of Marvel's passive aggressive remarks and body language to cops, why? Well who knows! (for the citizens atleast.)
Captain Marvel getting interviewed during a JL fight, with absolute chaos happening in the background.
News Reporter: Uh, Mr. Marvel are you really okay with not joining that uh fight over there. Seems a bit rough?
Captain Marvel: Oh, no it's fine. I will only have to join the fight when pigs start to fly-!
Him getting cut off by a cop getting flew into a building right beside him. (Don't worry the cops fine.) And everybody's just so sure they saw a vein slightly pop out on Marvel's forehead before quickly disappearing.
Captain Marvel: Welp! Guess I said something way too soon, sorry we had to cut this interview short. I have to step in-
he now quickly flew over to the fight. Another one is.
Captain Marvel, standing next to a cop getting interviewed once again after defeating a monster, terrorizer or whatever fits the bunch.
News reporter: Oh I have a question for you Mr. Marvel! What do you think of America's current law and order, along with the current justice system placed!
Captain Marvel: I thi-
Some police man standing next to Captain: I'll take this question. He means that he's happy with the current system, alto-
As the cop continued to answer HIS question he only shot a look of pure annoyance, violence, and HATE with the same smile he had before he got cut off. It went viral of course, and became society's favorite reaction photo whenever something pisses them off.
#dc#dc comics#dc universe#dcu#billy batson#shazam#captain marvel#detective comics#fawcett city#fawcett comics#fawcett#justice league
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Looking out for you
Summary; Rafe has the best intentions, despite not acting on them in the best way.
Warnings; mentions of sa, use of drugs (weed), angst, arguments, stalking, obsession, Rafe being nice, soft sweet sex with Rafe, fem oral, multiple orgasms.
You’re sat on your bed scrolling through Instagram when your door crashes open, a blinding mess of dirty blonde hair flying into your room.
You know immediately that it’s your brother, as he’s the only one who would fly into your room with no invitation- and your parents were away in Rome for the summer, leaving you and Topper to fend for yourselves.
Topper takes a seat on the edge of your bed, chest heaving like he’s just ran a marathon, cheeks flushed.
You perk an eyebrow, locking your phone and looking over at him. “What do you want Top?”
He raises a finger at you, other hand clasping his chest.
“Cmon Topper, I don’t have all day.”
He gulps, nodding his head before trying to talk.
“So I was at a party with Rafe and I stepped away for one second to answer Rhi’s phone call and when I came back he was fighting with JJ Maybank,” he pauses, swallowing. You sigh, not sure what this has to do with you, until he continues.
“I only overheard the end of the conversation but to sum it up they made a bet, about you. Who could sleep with you first- and I know that’s fucked but you’re my sister and I had to let you know so now you-”
“Wait, what? Fucking what?” You ask, incredulous. He nods his head, sharing the same confused face you’re sure you have.
“I don’t have anymore details, but now you know if either of them try anything.” He looks at you, finally able to breathe properly. “Don’t let them try anything, okay? Rafe is my best friend but he’s not a good guy.”
Your mind is racing with thoughts- JJ Maybank, a name that sounded familiar, but left a small distaste on your tongue. You couldn’t put on where you’d heard it from. And Rafe- Rafe fucking Cameron, your brothers best friend who you were absolutely sure hated you.
“Topper, what the fuck?” Is all you manage, and he nods his head again. “I know, I know it’s fucked and that fucking pogue better stay away otherwise I’ll beat his ass.”
You immediately connect the dots.
“What, as in thee pogue JJ? Sarah Cameron’s pogue friend?”
“Yep.”
When you were friends with Sarah, before she went off to be with those pogues, she had introduced you to them and you could remember one of them acting really weird around you. The more you thought, the more his name sounded familiar. It was the creepy one.
Your mind is racing and you groan, head falling back onto your head board. Men.
“Okay, thank you for letting me know Top. You can leave now.” He looks shocked for a second, before nodding, standing, and leaving your room, shutting the door behind him.
-
The next morning when you wake, and check your phone, you see a text message from your friend, Maddison. She’s invited you to a little shopping spree on the boardwalk, and who are you to say no?
You could do with some shopping.
It’s when you’re getting out of the shower and wrapping your towel around your body that you hear something clink in your room. You know your brother is out on his boat, as he is every Saturday- so who the fuck is in your room?
You grab your hairbrush off your sink, hoping it will suffice enough as a weapon and slowly open your bathroom door.
The person is stood at the other side of your room, back facing away from you as they look out the window.
It doesn’t take you even two seconds to throw the brush at them, it landing square in their back with a large thump, before falling to the floor.
“Get the fuck out! I’ve got more where that came from!” You tell, only hearing a chuckle in response. You recognise it from somewhere, but don’t put the voice to the face until they turn around.
Rafe Cameron.
“No because what the fuck are you doing in my room you freak?” You shout, gripping the edge of your towel tighter. He doesn’t move, almost drinking you in while in the towel and you suddenly feel more naked than ever.
You remember what your brother told you last night.
“Hey doll, lovely way to ask me how I am,” he chuckles again, fingers brushing against your bed as he looks up at you.
“No, I will not ask you how you are when you’re in my room without me allowing you to be,” you scoff. “So get the fuck out. Topper is on his boat if you need him.”
He smirks at you, moving around the edge of your bed.
“I’m not here for him, sweetheart. I’m here for you.” He moves closer to you and you take a few steps back into your bathroom.
“Look, I know about your stupid little bet with that creepy pogue. I want nothing to do with either of you so leave.” You tell him, voice faltering as he steps close enough to touch you.
Yes, Rafe Cameron was incredibly attractive. Beyond attractive. But that did not change the fact that you thought he was an absolute psychopath, him being in your room all the proof you needed.
“I’m not going anywhere until I explain to you. I knew Topper would run his mouth without telling you what actually happened.”
What actually happened? What could he possibly mean by that? When he made a bet about sleeping with you.
“How about you get dressed so I’m not so distracted and then I can tell you, yeah?”
You can’t lie to yourself, you’re intrigued. There’s a little tingle between your legs by the way he says he’s distracted by you but it disappears the second you remind yourself about the bet. You slowly nod your head and disappear behind the bathroom door, grabbing your dressing gown to cover yourself with.
Rafe is sat on your bed, mindlessly zoned out as he waits for you. You stand at the edge of it, arms crossed over your chest. “Explain.”
He smirks up at you, still eying you up despite the more covered choice of clothing.
“JJ Maybank has a very unhealthy obsession with you. To the point where I’m concerned for you. He’s a weirdo. He said he’s gonna be fucking you soon and you’ve been flirting with him.” You’re lost for words.
“I’ve never even spoken to him.” You say, voice small. You knew he was creepy but you didn’t think it went this far.
Rafe nods his head. “I told him to shut the fuck up because you’d never date anyone like him and that when he made this bet, and I agreed. I figured I’d come speak to you and get you to pretend we’ve had sex so he leaves you alone but topper got here first and ran his mouth.”
“We’ll, thank you Rafe but I can manage myself.” You say, holding your chin high.
He chuckles, again. “I don’t doubt that princess. He’s unhinged, that’s your issue.”
Your phone pings and you look down at it, to see that Madison has text you saying she’ll be setting off for you in five minutes.
You sigh. “Look, I’ve got plans. Can you just go? I really can’t be bothered with whatever you’re spewing and I’m not stupid. I won’t sleep with either of you.” He nods his head, jaw clenching and unclenching as he stands from your bed.
He towers way over you, one of his hands coming up to grip your chin. “You need to be careful, doll.” You immediately slap him away.
“Get the fuck out of my house. The only time you’re welcome here is if you’re with Topper.” His jaw is clenched again and he nods, pushing his hands into his pockets and walking out without saying another word.
Fucking hell. You grown out loud, hand coming up to run over your face. Fucking men.
-
“He said what?” Madi exclaims, almost knocking over her cocktail in the process of disbelief. You nod your head, taking a sip from your own as you lean closer to hear her in the crowded bar.
“It’s insane, isn’t it? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it myself,” you sigh, eyes searching the bar. It’s crowded, Friday night drinkers out in full force. You think you see a flash of messy blonde darting through the flocks of people, but the thought leaves your mind before it can even form.
“I mean, if Rafe Cameron were wanting to fuck me I wouldn’t say no,” madi giggles and you roll your eyes at her, wooing over someone who just isn’t that great.
“It’s not just that though Mad, it’s like he has some perverted older brother watch on me, as if he feels the need to fight my battles for me- and he’s yucky anyway. He’s slept with half the cut,”
Madi giggles again, twirling her straw in her drink. “Speaking of,” she blushes cherry and you follow her eyes to see Rafe stood at the bar, mouth moving but eyes locked on you. Your brother stands next to him, completely obvious to where Rafe’s attention actually is. He notices you looking right back at him and waves, cocky smirk on his features. You scoff, rolling your eyes.
Of course he’s here. You’d never admit that Rafe was hot, or that sometimes you had to close your thighs when he did that stupid smirk. No, never. Not even to madi.
“He’s so totally into you.” She gushes, grabbing your hand from across the table. You loved Madison, but sometimes she just didn’t get it. Rafe had been your brothers best friend since you were five, and you knew better than anyone that he was bad news. The more that you thought about it, the more it wound you up.
“Well I’m not into him, or JJ Maybank for the matter. They can both go to hell,” you mutter, seeing that same flash of blonde out of the corner of your eye. You clear your throat, excusing yourself to the toilet.
The bar that you’re in is notorious for having their toilets as far away as possible. It’s like they don’t want you to go. As you’re pushing open the ladies toilet door, something grips your bicep and you yelp, feeling yourself being pulled back.
“Rafe Cameron, really?” You immediately recognise JJ’s voice. It’s gravelly, a hint of anger laced in. “I thought we had something special,” he continues, fingernails gripping your bicep so tight you can feel the bruise already.
“I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking to, let me go,” you demand. If there was one thing your dad taught you to do well, it was to defend yourself.
He scoffs, other hand reaching up to grip your chin. You wriggle, trying to escape his grip, to no avail.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me, you want me. Why sleep with him when he’s a psycho?” JJ asks, tightening his grip on your chin so you’re no choice but to look at him. You had to give him that, Rafe was a psycho. But not like this.
“You look like you’ve got seven std’s, JJ. I can assure you I do not want anything to do with you,” you snap back, ripping your arm out of his grip when he softens, obviously not expecting you to say that. You finally step back and begin a fast pace down the corridor- not making it very far before he’s grabbing you again.
“You’re so fucking spoilt- but goddamn, it’s hot. I could fuck you right here,” he’s pressing all up against you from behind, whispering in your ear. You grit your teeth and reel forward, hands clawing at his around your arm.
“I’d let go if I were you,” you grit and JJ laughs.
“You gonna slick Rafe on me? I don’t see him here. You’re mine,” he hums, hand sliding down your dress.
“If that had moves an inch you’re more than a dead man.” You hear, looking up to see Rafe Cameron charging towards the two of you. You’re unsure if you’re thankful or not.
“Here he comes, your little guard dog,” JJ huffs in your ear, hand sliding lower. You gather every ounce of strength in you and reel backwards, back of your head smashing into the front of his. JJ cries out, letting go of you and grasping his now bleeding nose.
Rafe looks surprised almost as he pulls you into his side, arm wrapping around your shoulders. This feels different, safer. You’re glad he’s here.
“You broke my nose you bitch,” JJ yells at you, crazy eyes meeting your own. Rafe laughs, almost pitiful at the scene.
“Be lucky I didn’t get my hands on you, Maybank. Now fuck off, before I change my mind.” JJ eyes you both, contemplating before eventually stepping past you.
“This isn’t over,” he comments, before disappearing round the corner. You finally breathe, shoulders wracking and shaking with what you realise are cries. This could have been a lot worse.
“Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” Rafe soothes you, rubbing circles into your back. He pretends not to notice how your dress is almost at your hips as he pulls it down for you.
“I’m just looking out for you, I promise,” he whispers. “You’ve seen what he’s like now. You know I’m just protecting you,”
You nod. You couldn’t imagine what would have happened had he not appeared when he had. You hated to admit it, but you were thankful for him being here afterall.
“Let’s get you home shall we? I’ll get topper to take Madison home.” All you can do is nod, gripping Rafe’s side for dear life as he leads you out of the bar.
-
“Here, we’re home,” rafe squeezes your thigh, where his hand has been the entire drive back to your house. You’re thankful he’s allowed you to sit in silence, you don’t think you’d have the words to talk.
Rafe jumps out of his truck, rushing round to your side to open the passenger door.
“I’m okay, Rafe, honestly. Thank you,” you pull yourself out of the seat, hand searching through your bag for your keys. Rafe follows slightly behind you, waiting for you to unlock the door before standing on the step.
You hesitate in the doorway. You could really do with not being alone right now. You’re not scared, or necessarily wound up over what’s just happened, but you’d appreciate the company. Whether it be Rafe Cameron or not.
“Do you wanna stay?” You rush out, turning to face him. He’s leaning against the doorframe in what you now notice as a blue knit sweater and some black pants, all of which fit him perfectly.
“Don’t have to ask me twice doll.” He grins, hand reaching out to squeeze your hip. It’s a nice feeling, and the blush on your cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe as he uses the grip on your hip to slide himself past you into the house.
You shut the door, locking it while thinking to yourself. You’re not sure if you’ll regret this or not, but that’s a problem for later.
“I’m gonna go get a bath I think, but you can make yourself at home in my room while I do,” you tell him, waking up the stairs. Rafe’s quick on your heels, constantly keeping close to you. You open your door to your room, flicking your lamp on that illuminates the room in a soft pink hue.
Rafe immediately kicks his shoes off and plops ontop of your sheets, grabbing the remote for your tv like he’s been here millions of times before. It feels comfortable, not a single ounce of awkwardness between the two of you. You kick your heels off and walk around to the other side of the bed, opening the bedside drawer. You reach in, taking a grinder and little tube of weed out.
Rafe whistles. “Who would’ve thought?” You raise an eyebrow, dropping some of the nuggets into your grinder and reaching into the draw for some papers.
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you,” rafe grins at you as you giggle, rolling the weed into the paper and using your tongue to stick it down. You think Rafe is watching you in awe, but you’re not sure.
You finish off the joint, putting all the supplies back into the drawer and reaching for your lighter before shutting the drawer.
“Do you want some?” You ask, standing up and walking to your balcony door. Rafe nods and follows, taking a seat on the chair next to you. You spark the joint and take a long puff, sinking down into the chair.
You twirl the joint inbetween your fingers before offering it to Rafe, who takes it between his lips and takes a puff.
“What happened to the bath?” He asks, taking another puff before passing it back to you. You shrug.
“I remembered I had weed and that’s better.”
“Can’t argue,” Rafe responds, watching as your lips wrap around the joint. You can immediately feel it, all thanks to your dealer getting the best stuff.
“That was crazy,” you suddenly say, thinking out loud. Rafe agrees as you pass him the joint again, taking another puff. “Like? You said he was crazy but I wasn’t expecting that. Thank you for being there.” You ramble, grabbing the joint from him and taking another puff.
“He genuinely thought we were together you know,” you tell Rafe, passing him the joint again. It’s almost already gone.
“I told him that we were,” rafe says, handing you it back. “You can finish it sweetheart,”
“You told him we were together? I thought-” you stop mid sentence, unable to form any thoughts.
“I told him that so he’d back off. Obviously didn’t work, he’s lucky I wasn’t there sooner.” You can hear the anger in his voice. You take a final puff of the joint, dabbing it out on the table before flicking the end somewhere off the balcony.
You narrow your eyes, turning to Rafe. “Why do you care so much?” He turns to you, lax as anything as he speaks.
“Because I do, always have. I wish you’d believe me when I say so because I’m not lying. I care about you a lot.”
Your mind is running a thousand miles, unable to stop. “But you’re an arsehole,”
Rafe grins. “Ouch, that hurt, princess.” You clench your thighs together. He certainly has a way with words.
“You are though- you’ve never been nice to me,” you pout, resting your chin on your hand.
“Because I was scared.” He sighs, looking out at the night sky.
“Scared of what?” You ask, oblivious. If you weren’t high, it would’ve hit you like a ton of bricks by now.
Rafe laughs. “Scared of my feelings for you.” Oh. OH.
It’s like the brakes have finally begun to work. The car you’ve been driving skids to a halt, and it all finally makes sense. Rafe likes you.
Rafe Cameron likes you.
“I just can’t control myself around you, princess. I kept my distance in the beginning because I wasn’t a good person but I’ve changed. I can manage to be near you now without wanting to bend you over something for my own selfish reasons.” Your mouth is agape. Rafe finally looks at you.
“JJ Maybank claiming to have fucked the girl I’m so passionate about pissed me off. I wanted to rip his head off his shoulders. I thought telling him we’d fucked would be enough to keep him away.” There’s a pool of your arousal building in your panties, hearing him talk about you like this. If he’d have taken one look into the thoughts you’d had of him this would’ve been a different story a long time ago.
“I don’t want to fuck you for my own sake. I’ve been a selfish man in the past, but I do care about you. I wish you’d let me show you.” There’s a note in his tome that makes you realise he’s sincere.
You eventually find your voice. “Show me.”
Rafe’s eyes meet your own. “What?“
“Show me Rafe. I mean it.”
He’s leaning over the table in less than a second, grasping your head between his hands and capturing your mouth in a kiss. One of his thumbs swiped over your cheek and you let out a whimper, Rafe pulling the both of you up to stumble together on the balcony.
His lips leave yours and wander down your neck, hands wrapping round you and lifting you onto the table. You gasp, hands gripping his shoulders as he kisses down your neck.
“You’re on my mind all the time,” rafe whispers through kisses, working his way back up to your lips. He pulls you into a kiss again, pushing himself between your open legs. You feel his bulge press against your now weeping heat and you moan into his mouth, a sound he swallows right up. You’re slowly grinding against him, hands searching all over his back and his hand push your dress up over the curve of your thighs.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes drinking in every part of you. You’re thankful you decided to put your pink panties on today, as he seems specially transfixed on them and one of his fingers lingers at the edge.
“May I?” He asks, eyes searching yours. You nod, but that’s not enough for Rafe. He grips your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“Words, princess, cmon.” You about cream just from his words.
“Please touch me Rafe,” you whimper, finding your voice. Rafe grins, hand lingering at the edge of your panties finally pulling them to the side to look at your cunt. His fingers toy with the edge of your panties, before slowly pushing through your folds with intent.
It’s so dirty, on your balcony where anyone could hear. “All wet, just for me huh? Seems like you wanted this too yeah?” He tells you, holding your chin down so you can watch his ministrations on you. It’s down right wrong, how hot this feels right now. You can feel yourself dripping onto his fingers as he pushes a solo digit into your hole, groaning as he does.
You reach forward to palm him through his pants but he stops you. “Ah, this is about you. I don’t give a shit about myself right now.” He slips another finger in, setting a steady pace as his lips find yours.
You find yourself grinding on his fingers, listening to the small bouts of praise Rafe gives you and the way his fingers set a faster pace.
“It feels so fucking good,” you moan, writhing ontop of the table. Rafe moves his thumb to circle your clit and it’s over for you, crying out as you spill onto his hand and relax onto his shoulder for support.
“Cmon doll, I wanna taste,” Rafe tells you, lifting you from the table and taking you inside. There’s some shitty reality tv playing in the background but you don’t care for it much as Rafe lowers you onto your bed, pushing your dress further up and pulling your panties down, throwing them somewhere in the room.
He wastes no time, lowering himself down to your still sopping cunt and diving straight in. You feel him everywhere all at once, hands darting down to his head in an effort to grip something.
You feel one of his long fingers prodding at your hole again and you welcome it with a whimper, nails scratching his head.
“You’re so fucking sweet, could stay here for hours,” you clench around his fingers and Rafe smirks.
“You like when I talk baby? Good girl, so wet for me.” He coos, lips attatching to your clit once more. You cry out, squirming as he gives you everything like he’s known your body for years. His free hand reaches up and pulls down your dress, grasping your nipple.
“Rafe, I’m so close,” you whine, thighs locking around his head. He slurps, pushing another finger into your cunt.
“Give it to me sweet girl, cmon. Make a mess for me.” He demands, curling his fingers inside you and it’s over again, your high crashing like a wave over you and Rafe takes everything you’re giving him.
“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he praises you as he comes up, nose, mouth and chin covered in your slick. You’re aware that the weed is heightening your senses, but you had no doubt that Rafe knew what he was doing.
“You think you can give me more?” He asks, fingers still toying with your cunt. You nod, absentmindedly- fucked from just the first two.
“Ah, cmon, use your words doll,” he’s hovering above you, eyes searching yours.
“Please Rafe, please fuck me.” He grins, hand leaving you as he goes for the belt on his jeans.
“Take your dress off for me sweetheart,” he tells you and you do as you’re told, revealing your pink lacy bra. “That too,” he points to it and you reach behind you, unclasping your bra and throwing it somewhere in the room.
When Rafe frees himself from his boxers, you’re shocked. He’s large. Massive even.
“Lay back for me, just like that. Good girl.” He praises you, hands all over your body Ashe captures your mouth in another kiss. You feel his tip push into your hole and you gasp, legs trying to close.
“Cmon sweetheart, let me take care of you yeah? Make you feel good.” Rafe grips the base of his cock as you open your legs, allowing him to slide in. You gasp, never having felt this full before. Rafe chuckles like he knows, and gives you a second before he begins a slow pace.
It’s so much. You can’t keep quiet, especially when Rafe puts his thumb on your clit again and begins whispering into your ear.
“So fucking tight, so good for me aren’t you,” you moan, whimpering yes back as he continues to fuck you starry.
“M’not gonna last long,” you cry, gripping his bicep. He nods, drawing tighter circles on your clit. It makes you mewl out, nails scraping down his back. Rafe groans, punctuating his thrust as you do.
“You’re all mine now, I’m gonna make sure you’re always looked after. Fuck, you feel so fucking good, cum for me.” He demands, and his words bring you right there. His next thrust is angled just right and you whine out, pussy clenching around his dick in a way that makes Rafe see stars.
It’s like you were made for him.
“Where do you want me to cum sweetheart?” He asks, and through heavy breaths, you tell him.
“Inside. Birth control.” That makes Rafe’s hips stutter, his release painting your walls as he finally stops, keeping his dick inside you. You’re both heaving, and Rafe can feel his cum and your own seeping out of you. He reaches over and grabs your chin, pulling you for a kiss.
“Meant it. You’re mine. Gonna take such good care of you.”
-
More one shots of this ?
#x reader#smut#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fic#obx#obx season 4#outer banks#rafe one shot
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hi! i was wondering if i can request lads boys comforting their s/o bc their cat has passed. my baby passed today and i’m grieving really hard. thank you and have an amazing day🫶🏻
Moving this one up immediately in my box just to express my condolences. Your baby was very loved, I'm sure, and I hope you get through this tough time with care <3 I'm sorry for your loss. It's a tough time, regardless of who you're losing. My partner's grandpa passed a couple years back and I remember us crying, laughing and bowling, crying again, and talking a lot. Heck, I went to a craft store right after I heard the news and wandered around for two hours without any goal. I think I bought lolipop sticks. Take care love <3 You'll get through this. I know it's hard.
LaDS men when your pet cat has passed away
Xavier -
Since he lives so close by, your baby was his baby too, so he's devastated. Not equally so, he knows you spent more time with them, and you had them long before you had met him, but still- the pain exists.
The both of you are a bundle of blankets for a long while, just lying in the comfort and going through the both of your phones as you look for every single photo or video that has your cat in it, even just a little bit.
Lots of tears, but lots of laughs as well.
Everything is clear and apparent with every single memory the two of you go through- every little quirk your cat had, every little habit they had-
You both have a really nice time just talking about your cat, and any of the goofy mischief they used to get up to.
Of course you cry, and of course Xavier holds you through it. He knows how hard this is for you, and he knows it'll pass.
But until then, he's got you.
He's always got you.
Zayne -
He may be pragmatic to an extreme sometimes, but when it comes to grieving, he knows how hard it can be on the human psychic.
Not to mention on someone like you, who's already been through enough.
He'll definitely ask you if you want a hug, and if the answer is yes, he'll hold you, squeezing you so snugly and for so long that surely his muscle memory doesn't know a different position anymore.
Warm tea or cocoa, his old cardigan on your shoulders, pillows and blankets surrounding you on the couch, and just…
A lot of care.
If you ask him for any opinions or advice, he probably won't be able to give it to you. He doesn't want to risk anything coming out abrasive when you're still so tender, so he'll settle for condolences and anything comforting he can think of.
"I know it hurts. And you can try as you might, but the hole they left won't ever manage to be blocked out. All you can do is keep going, and hold their memory close."
Sylus -
Deep breath, it's going to be alright.
Loss is definitely something he's familiar with- and it's partially why he doesn't have anyone of his own. Mephisto may have a personality, but he's also mechanical. There's no way for him to disappear, because every bit of data in him gets saved, just in case.
But there's also no way your cat will disappear either, because Sylus has saved every memory of her, to make sure you will always have something should this day arrived.
He just didn't expect it to come so soon.
Doesn't matter what job he has, it's left to Luke and Kieran. He's by your side to care for you in whatever capacity you may need. He takes a lot of initiative, but he also asks you a lot of questions too. He doesn't want to risk making you uncomfortable, and he knows you're extra tender right now.
A lot of physical affection if that's what you need, and a lot of ideas to help you through it- whether he takes you out somewhere to help distract you from the pain, or goes through old memories with you to help you grieve through it, he'll do anything.
For as long as you may need.
Rafayel -
He hated cats.
Except for this one.
That was partially your fault, but also partially the darned cat's fault for being such a love.
He's devastated, both for you, and for himself.
He'll hug you- kiss you. Anything he can think of that usually cheers you up, even though he knows there's really nothing that's going to help right now.
He's been there, he's experienced loss. He knows what you're going through, and unfortunately- he knows that also means there's not really any helping it.
Someday when you're ready- could be in a month, could be three years from now, it doesn't matter at all him- he'll make you probably one of the favorite gifts you'll ever receive from him.
It's a portrait of your past baby, flowing full of life and color with eyes that sparkle almost as well as theirs did back when they were still around.
Almost.
And sometimes, 'almost' is more than enough to help ease the pain.
#.writey#love and deepspace#lads#lds#x reader#sylus x reader#rafayel x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#<3
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Barry wants to be so mean to the kid. He’s hardly out of college and gets his funding from SOMEWHERE and SOMEHOW, even with every safety feature from this world and the next, something goes awry.
And the kid knows not only who he is but also somehow got his cell phone number.
WHY is Flash the one called and not a supernaturalist? Because Daniel “Call me Danny” “The Ghost Scientist” Fenton has a lab in Central and has the scientific papers to show that, yes, he is dealing with ghosts, and, yes, the science is science-ing.
Somehow. The science is there and it’s somehow wrong and STILL WORKING.
Danny even offers him the best Fudge for Barry to eat as an apology after Barry has spent the better part of three days chasing down Puff Marshmallow Man 2: Electric Boogaloo (with real ecto electric powers!)
The kid isn’t even evil or anything and nine out of ten times his inventions and discoveries are groundbreaking, so the most Danny ever gets punished with is community service.
Danny tutors kids for free already. Weirdly, it’s mostly English.
Barry wants to hate the kid so damn much. What did he ever do to deserve this?
(Answer: piss off Clockwork with his time shenanigans. Him and his whole family, but he’s the one who really kicked off the time issues. Clockwork makes Danny’s life easier just so Danny can piss off Barry in ways that make Clockwork chuckle. Danny is game.)
Danny a Rogue in one of DC city, but not the "I'm gonna kill everyone cause' I HATE LIFE !!!" no, he's "Oops, call the hero I accidentaly made a superweapon that I cannot stop (for the third time this week) !"
The Super Hero doesn't know what to do with him and you cann see Danny cheereing from a stand while the hero is battling the thing in a désolation landscape
#clockwork basically acts as Danny’s benefactor#in exchange Cloxkwork uses all the loopholes to keep the Observants away from Danny#clockwork also gives Danny a day planner that is very accurate on when any of his enemies want to come fight him and why#Danny uses this info to plan his fights so that they rarely intrude on his normal life#whatever that normal life may be
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𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐎 ꕥ FRANCO COLAPINTO
summary. a quick detour proves that you can still be best friends while dating.
warnings. nothing just pure fluff. franco & reader are down bad for each other.
gabri speaks! obsessed with how he’s the people’s princess of argentina. based off vivo by gustavo cerati. kind of short sorry.
SODASTEREO PLAYED FAINTLY in the background as the vibrant city of Buenos Aires faded behind you. You were only fifteen minutes into the forty minute drive to Franco’s hometown and he was already bored out of his mind. He had scrolled endlessly through instagram, twitter, tiktok, and even dabbled into netflix hoping something would catch his attention but nada. Then as he puts his phone down and notices you leaning against the window he suddenly remembers his girlfriend. The two of you were a relatively new couple and somehow he still hadn’t figured out the logistics of it.
“Che, how was your week?” He breaks the comfortable silence preferring your voice fill up the car.
“Franco we literally spent the whole week at yours watching all the Fast & Furious movies.” You remind him.
“Oh, yes! The part where they went to space?” He uses his hands to describe his feelings. “Cine.”
You can’t help but laugh at his mannerism as he describes his favorite scene of all the franchise. The sun shines brightly on his side and his brunette hair literally glows as he speaks. His brown eyes bore into yours as he proceeds to tell you about a show on his watchlist he wants to start with you when the season ends. You’re too lost in his features you don’t notice when he stops talking and waits for you to answer him. Not until he starts snapping his fingers in your face dramatically.
“Can I?” He asks shyly.
“Can you what?”
He looks away briefly for a moment, his cheeks turning a light hue of red, trying to gain the courage to ask you again. Because of course to his luck you didn’t hear him the first time. His hand instinctively goes to the back of his head scratching his neck as he opens up his mouth again.
“Can I lay in your lap?” And if you hadn’t paid attention then you wouldn’t have heard him from how silently he spoke.
“Franco we’re dating now. You don’t really have to ask anymore.” You send him a warm smile.
“It’s just we were friends before this for a long time and I’m still getting used to it. I wasn’t sure if I was overstepping.” He rambles on. “I’m just tired.”
“It’s fine. Come here.” You speak softly.
You shuffle your things to make space for him and soon enough his head is in your lap and your fingers are tracing his face. You’d spend enough time with him to know he was a fast sleeper so in a matter of minutes he was already lightly snoring under you. His curls are soft under your fingers but you’re careful to not give him knots. Franco was very sensitive about his hair and hated having to comb it all out. As Gustavo Cerati’s voice filled the car with Franco in your lap you wondered how you got so lucky.
The car came to a heavy halt and your eyes jolted open. You hadn’t even realized that you’d fallen asleep as well. Meanwhile, the brunette remained asleep. You figured the past few weeks had really tired him out. You recall the phone calls in the middle of the night in which he explained to you, excitedly, how williams was treating him. They were very lighthearted calls at first that gradually turned into calls where you had to remind him that they chose him for a reason. He was still your friend at the time but it was then when he realized he needed you. When you unexpectedly flew out to Mexico that was when he sealed the deal. He couldn’t let you go after that.
“Shh… Franco. Wake up.” You try to talk to him awake but he remains still.
“Franco!” This time you push him off jolting him awake.
“Ay!” He rubs his eyes awake as you brush your hair down hoping your little nap didn’t ruin it. “Oh, we’re here!”
You can barely make the view out of the car but you notice the small city center. There’s various shops, restaurants, and even a little park at the end. Your phone indicated that there was still twenty minutes left to his hometown so you were confused as to where you were right now. Franco opens the door for you and you patiently stand outside the car while he talks to the driver. You look around staring in awe at the architecture of the town you were in.
“Franco where are we?”
“Just a small detour.” He grabs your hand in his. “Come, I really wanted to show you around.”
He quickly puts his sunglasses on as if to hide his identity while he drags you around. You stop briefly at the market where he buys you a bracelet identical to his. He says that it will bring you luck and protection and warns you to never lose it or break it. Then he takes you to the corner store and encourages you to look around for some snacks. Something light he says as his mom is waiting for the two of you with dinner. You decide on an ice cream bar. One for him and one for you. The two of you thank the cashier before he takes you to the last stop on his itinerary.
The park at the end of the road was vibrant with the huge green football field adorning half of it. There was a small group of kids playing football on it and you watched in awe as they chased after the ball. All of them were wearing the same uniform meaning they’d ran straight to the park after school. Franco drags you to the wooden swing set under the only tree in the park.
“Whenever we went to the capital my mom would stop here and let me and my sister play for a little before we headed back. I just thought that it was finally time for me to share it with you.” He rocks back and forth. “So, it can be our place now.”
“Our place? That sounds…” You try and match his pace on the swings. “Nice.”
The two of you swing in comfortable silence admiring the nice weather before a ball lands comfortably in front of Franco. The two of you lift your heads up wondering where the ball came from. Faintly you spot the little boy running towards you as fast as his little feet could take him. His classmates stay back watching attentively.
“Me das la pelota?” He extends his little arms out. “Por favor.” (can you give me the ball, please?)
“Me encanta tu remera! Vos vas a ser futbolista profesional, no?” Franco makes small talk with him. (I like your shirt! You’re gonna be a professional football player right?)
“Si! Le voy a dar a Argentina la cuarta!” He yells excitedly. (Yes! I’m going to give Argentina their fourth title!)
“Dale!” Franco finally picks up the ball and places it in the little boys hands. “Ahí me invitas a la final, eh?” (Good! Invite me to the final, eh?)
“Si!” The boy nods his head enthusiastically. He’s about to say something else when his classmates yell at him to hurry up. He waves goodbye quickly and he’s on his way.
“Wanna bet four lucas he’ll end up on Argentina’s roster in ten years?” He jokes. ($4.000 in argentine pesos)
You don’t even pay attention to his joke because the interaction between Franco and the little boy had you gushing. Before you know it your hands are on his neck and you’re pulling him down for a quick kiss.
“What was that for?” He smiles down at you.
“I like you.” You mumble as he leans against you.
“I like you more.” He whispers against your ear.
#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#gabri writes#franco colapinto
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Day 3: Belonging
@azrielappreciationweek
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Azriel loved his family.
He loved his mother, but rarely saw her. He refused to bring her any danger when he knew she couldn’t protect herself.
He loved his brothers. Even though he has had different arguments with both of them lately, he loved them.
He loved Amren, Mor, Feyre, Elain and Nesta.
His entire family gave him joy.
But he was missing someone. Someone that was just his. His mother had never been able to raise him. Rhys and Cass were friends before he came along. Rhys’ mother was exactly that, Rhys’. Mor chose Cass and all the Archeron sisters had mates that wasn’t him.
He was always the second choice.
He knew they loved him back and did their best to include him, but they would never prioritize him over their mates. And he understood that, but it wasn’t enough.
He needed to be the first choice.
That’s why he loved you more than anything and also why he chose to keep you a secret.
He knew his family would never take you away from him, but he hated the thought of even sharing the amazing relationship the two of you had with others.
You had now been dating for two years. And it was the two most amazing years of his life.
If he had a bad day, you were there to hold him. If he had a good day, you were there to be happy with him. And if he had a normal day, you were there to make it perfect.
He had lost count of the days he had come home to a freshly cooked dinner and your smiling face.
You loved to cook in your free time and even though Azriel often urged you to let him help you in the kitchen, the answer was always the same: “I love to cook, Az. It’s my way of unwinding.”
So he let you have the cooking and he did the dishes. It worked for the two of you.
“Are you even listening?” Rhysand asked him.
Mission, Illyria, two weeks, female training
Thank the mother for his shadows.
“You want me to spend two weeks in Illyria making sure the females are training,” he answered with a neutral tone. “I listen, but isn’t this more of Cassian’s expertise?”
He did not want to leave you for two weeks. In only one week was your two years anniversary and he had planned something special.
“Cassian is going on the same mission, but he’s taking half the camps and you’re taking the other half,” Rhys explained. “Spending a month every time we have to make sure the females are training isn’t going to work, so we are trying this solution.”
He only nodded.
Even though he hated to miss your anniversary, he just couldn’t let Rhys know about you just yet.
“Thank you, Az,” Rhys answered. “Can you start tomorrow?”
It had been two weeks without Azriel. A week since your anniversary. And even though you knew why he wanted to keep you a secret, you still hated the fact that you were alone on your anniversary.
So to say you were excited for him to return was an understatement.
You were almost blooming in happiness. You had made his favorite dinner and dessert and made sure the food was ready for nine o’clock. He said he would be back at nine o’clock.
But then it turned nine fifteen and then half past nine and then ten and then eleven.
You knew Azriel well enough to know that he would have let you know if he knew he would be late.
But you had gotten no message.
So you started pacing.
And cleaning.
You ate without him. You read your book. You knitted. And you took a bath.
And finally, at three o’clock in the morning, you heard the door to your house close.
You basically ran towards the front door and were immediately met by a wall of shadows.
They embraced you, looked over your entire body for injuries and pulled you towards their master.
“Az?” You asked carefully.
“I’m sorry for coming home so late,” he answered with a tired voice.
The shadows had now pulled you so that you stood only half a meter away from Azriel.
His leathers were ripped and his head was heavy.
“What happened?” You asked him with a gasp.
Before he could answer you had already slipped on your shoes and started dragging him out the door.
“Y/N,” he said and tried to hold you back. “I’m fine.”
You stopped in your tracks.
“Az,” you started with a sigh. “Love, you can’t even stop me, a female half your size, from dragging you to the clinic. I think we both know you’re not fine.”
He let you win the argument and went along to the clinic. He walked worriedly slow and every now and then he let out a painful whimper. He even had difficulties holding his wings up from the ground.
You had just gotten to the clinic and sat down in the examination room, when you felt his hand go limp and looked up to see his eyes closed.
“Az?” You asked and shook him carefully. He gave no reaction.
You didn’t even think before you ran out of the room and found the closest healer.
Three healers rushed into his room and started working. They healed many small wounds and a bigger one on his back, before they bandaged some of the deeper ones.
You couldn’t look away from his face. He looked so peaceful, it felt so wrong knowing he was harmed.
“He’ll be okay,” one of the healers said to you. “You’re Y/N, right?”
You looked up at the healer from the chair you sat in. She knew about you? You didn’t think Azriel had told anyone about you.
“He usually asks for you right after waking up,” she told you as an answer to your confusion. “I’ll have to contact the High Lord. He’ll want to know his shadowsinger is safe.”
You nodded at the healer and spent as long time as possible beside Azriel, holding his hand and cuddling his hair, before you went back home, alone.
If he needed you to be a secret, you would be.
Azriel woke with a deep breath.
“Y/N?” He asked aloud with a groggy voice.
“Az?”
He couldn’t hold back the disappointment in hearing his brother’s voice and not yours.
He opened his eyes and was met with both of his brothers nervous stares.
Rhys handed him a glas of water and Cassian helped him sit up, even though he didn’t need help.
“You scared us there, Az,” Rhys said. “You had poison in your blood.”
Even though he heard Rhys’ words, he simply couldn’t understand what he was talking about.
The only thing he remembered was shadow walking home to you. He remembered making sure you were okay and that you dragged him to the clinic without even a hug or kiss.
But where were you now?
Y/N?
Home, safe, worried
His shadows saved him from going mad from worry.
“Az?” Cassian’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. He looked over to his brother. “Who’s Y/N?”
Azriel struggled to not show his surprise and confusion. How did he know about you?
“You’ve been muttering that name in your sleep,” Rhys explained and Azriel understood that they already knew who you are. “We’re sorry if you haven’t felt like you could tell us.”
“Yeah,” Cassian agreed. “We haven’t been prioritizing you and we’ve hated ourselves for it. Hope you can forgive us and let us have a new chance.”
Azriel didn’t know how to respond. He felt seen and understood. It felt nice. He felt ready even though he dreaded having to explain his feelings.
“Y/N is my girlfriend,” he started to explain. “We’ve been together for two years now and I didn’t want anyone to know because-“
“We understand Az,” Rhys interrupted him. “You wanted her for yourself. You don’t need to explain unless you want to.”
Relief grew from his body.
But he knew he wouldn’t feel okay until you were in his arms.
“Can one of you maybe get Y/N and bringer her here?” He asked carefully.
“Where is she?” Cassian asked as he jumped up from his chair and got ready to leave.
You woke from a knock at your door. It had been a long and anxious night not knowing how Azriel’s doing and you hadn’t realized you fell asleep.
Another knock made you sit up in the couch.
You knew it wasn’t Azriel, he had stopped knocking ages ago.
But you had a good feeling and went to open the door anyway.
“Hello,” a large illyrian male you realized had to be Cassian said.
“Hello?” You answered confused.
“There’s an awake shadowsinger that really wants you to come visit him.”
You had to hold back a squeal when you realized Azriel had told his family about you. And you immediately got ready to go to the clinic.
Cassian walked in front of you into the room and then pulled the High Lord out so that you and Azriel could be alone. It was absurd.
“Hi,” Azriel said.
His voice made you melt a little and you rushed towards him to give him a hug and kisses.
“Don’t ever do that again,” you said as you kissed his entire face. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” Azriel answered and moved to embrace you as well. “You know I’ll always come home to you, right?”
You nodded into his chest.
“I don’t like being away from you,” you whispered. “I think we belong together.”
Shadow started playing with your hair as Azriel became more and more relaxed.
“I know we do.”
Dividers by @cafekitsune
#acotar#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azrielappreciationweek2024#azrielappreciationweek
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Katsuki comforts you after a breakup.
700 words
Aizawa stood at the front of the class ready to begin the first lecture of the day, when he noticed your absence.
“Does anyone know where she is?” He asked the class. The class looked at the vacant seat with some hums and shrugs.
Mina gently spoke up, “I checked on her before I left, she said she was sick and didn’t know if she’d make it today.”
“Hmm, alright then. We’ll get started,” Aizawa decided.
Katsuki shifted in his seat to gaze at your empty seat, not buying the sick excuse.
He saw you come into the dorm last night and stomp up to your room. It was clear to him that you were upset about something. Could the class really be that oblivious, he seethed. Why hadn’t Mina tried harder to pry it out of you?
As the rest of the day went on, Katsuki found his thoughts continuing to wander to you. Were you ok? What had happened? He regretted not checking on you last night, but he could easily solve that after class.
At the conclusion of classes, Katsuki wasted no time rushing to your dorm door. Two hardy knocks rang through your room.
You lay in bed, pulling the sheets up to hide more of yourself as if escaping from the outside world.
“Told you I’m sick Ashido,” you yelled in response to the knocks.
“Bull shit,” Katsuki yelled back.
Breath hitching, eyes widening, you pulled the sheets away from your face, stunned by your classmate being outside your door.
“Open up brat,” he demanded.
Knowing better than to argue with Katsuki you slinked over to the door, opening it slowly.
Your appearance alarmed Katsuki, your eyes were puffy, and your face red. It was obvious you had been crying all day. His chest tightened and fist clenched as he walked into your room. You quickly shut the door, not wanting anyone else to see you.
“What the fuck happened?” He asked.
You opened your mouth to answer but bringing it out to words made your eyes water all over again.
Tearful you gulped out the words, “He broke up with me.”
Katsuki bit his bottom lip in anger. He never liked your boyfriend. Hated him even. It dumbfounded Katsuki that you saw him as worthy enough to date you. And now, you were telling him that absolute loser broke up with you.
Katsuki seethed with anger as you hiccupped out the story of the breakup. Your tears turned to full sobs as you relived the story over again.
He swallowed his urge to surprise your ex and destroy him, choosing to wrap his arms around you instead.
Without a second thought, you burrowed into his chest letting the sobs come freely. He didn’t speak, just let you get it out. Soothingly rubbing your back in between hard sobs.
He only caught half of the story, your tears drowning out some of the words. But he didn’t need to know. Any more anger and he might just find himself a murderer by the end of the night. Finally, some clear words broke out of your sobs.
“I really really liked him Katsuki,” you cried.
“No,” Katsuki said definitively, his tone sharp.
“What?” You mumbled out.
“Don’t-,” he broke off squeezing you tighter. “Don’t say that,” he huffed, a lump forming in his throat threatening to turn to tears. “Don’t say you actually liked him. You don’t mean that.”
Squeezing you so tight you could feel his body begin to shake, unsure if it was from anger or something else.
“Katsuki, I don’t understand,” you replied, your tears halting from the confusion.
“Say it. Say you never liked him. It’s been me this whole time,” he demanded.
Katsuki's words and confession took the air out of your lungs. Arms still wrapped around you holding you to his chest, there was no question of how serious his words were.
“Katsuki of course I’ve always liked you but-,” you began to say before he cut you off.
“Never mind that I’m taking care of you now. Got it?” He spoke.
You nodded in agreement, still stunned and in a daze.
“Good,” he hummed pulling you back to press a kiss to your forehead. “Forget his name.”
sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialsapphire @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3 @bythevay
#</slay writes>#mha katsuki bakugo#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x you#katsuki x reader#mha bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x self insert#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x female reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo#bnha katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#mha x y/n#mha x you#bnha x self insert#bnha x fem!reader#bnha x y/n#bnha x you#bnha x reader#katsuki fanfic#katsuki fluff
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What the heck, I'll also answer these with Sammy because I've been feeling edgy as hell lately.
Last one with this gal, for real this time. The unwilling vampire-turned-vampire hunter, Sammy
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
1. Excluding murder, what's the worst thing you've done?
SM: Considering the idea of giving in to the thirst at all.
2. Have you ever killed someone?
SM: Not someone, something. They're not people.
3. Have you ever killed a friend/family member/loved one?
SM: No. This question makes me incredibly angry.
4. What appears in your darkest nightmares?
SM: Blood that isn't my own.
5. What is your moral code?
SM: Protect the natural, kill the unnatural. Simple as.
6. Would you make a deal with the devil?
SM: Not even if it offered me salvation. I've killed demons. I know how that goes.
7. How far are you willing to go to get what you want?
SM: Far enough.
8. Would you consider yourself as evil?
SM: By virtue of my condition, yes.
9. Do you enjoy watching others suffer?
SM: I can't feel joy. But watching them squirm like the parasites they are as I send them straight to hell is... cathartic.
10. Have you ever tortured someone?
SM: Something. More than once. And I'll do it again. Until I inflict as much pain on them as they did to me.
11. If you were arrested, what would the charges be?
SM: Theft. Don't ask.
12. Who do you hate the most?
SM: ...Myself.
13. What is your "villain song"?
OOC: She doesn't really have one, but I tend to listen to Devils Never Cry when I draw her. Maybe Bring Me To Life by Evanescence? That's a certified Edge™️ classic.
14. If you draw: Draw your OC's darkest moment or reimagine them as a demon!
OOC:
Not really her darkest moment, but,
'Sammy looked ahead at the man who had once been her token of admiration.
A man of good, of kindness and sincerity. Who had once guided them into the right path.
Who'd once walked into her home not as a friend, nor as a figure of authority, but as family.
An equal. To her father, a brother. And to her mother, a cousin.
He stood there quietly, illuminated by the bright moonlight coming through the church's windows as he calmly straightened the creases of his vestment.
Staring coldly at the beaten and bloodied body of an unconscious Silver.
It had happened so quickly, she didn't even have time to react.
Before she knew it, she'd been slammed into the ground with enough force to shatter her spine.
It only took one or two seconds after that for her friend to follow suit and be reduced to a wheezing mess.
And she was powerless to do anything about it. As it always was. Forced to listen to the shrieks of pain of another victim while her wakened body tried its best to repair itself with what little blood she had left in her.
It angered her.
But what angered her the most was the unfeeling expression that bloodsucking bastard had all throughout.
It angered her so, so much.
"Now," the man finally spoke, wiping his bloodied hands with a pure white cloth "We can finally talk."
To hell with that, she thought.
"How peculiar" he continued "Those eyes of yours. They rage with the embers of hatred. Is it me that you despise?"
The man walked forward, into the shadows where she lay, matching her piercing stare with his own.
"I wonder why?" He calmly mused.
And then he placed a foot on her left arm. Pushing slowly, steadily, watching the skin tear apart and the bone splinter with a grotesque sound.
Of course, she didn't feel any of it. They both knew she couldn't. And to her, that was the worst punishment he could've given her.
"You were always quite fiery. The way you'd listen to the sermons, pay attention in Sunday school. That passion had always set you aside. And yet, it has also led you astray."
Then he did the same with her right arm, making sure to drag his sole on her mutilated limb with apathy.
"Holding to the remnants of your past. Hoping that they will keep you warm" he said, dropping the stained cloth on her pooling blood "I just can't understand why."
That got a grunt out of her.
"Why would the Father choose someone like you? Who so fervently seeks to reject his gift? His ideals? His goals?" He said while running a finger on his rosary "Someone so... immature--"
"Shut the fuck up already" she spat, voice coarse and breathy.
The man simply sighed in response.
"Of course. You're still young. I often forget that" he lamented quietly "Children learn by imitation, not comprehension."
Then he signaled back to Silver's unconscious form.
"That boy over there. You both act really similarly. Perhaps he was the one to influence you in this way?"
"Lay another finger on him..." she barked coldly, yet it did nothing to deter the pastor.
"And what?" He scoffed. Even though he couldn't express emotion, he sounded almost indignant "You are at the edge of your mortality, just like him. It would do you no good to continue your empty intimidations. After all..."
He turned around, giving her an uncaring glance as he walked back towards the boy.
"...You don't actually care what happens to him anyway, do you?"
"Go to hell."
The man knelt besides her sleeping companion, seemingly unfazed by the myriad of insults and threats that she continued to throw at him.
"You can stop pretending now" he stated matter-of-factly.
But that only fueled her anger further.
"You don't know fuck about me. Don't try to act like--"
"All of this... attitude. This rebellious phase." He interrupted her "Playing pretend with these... animals. Like they're not food to be consumed. Like you have the strength to make things right. Clinging on to something that you're not anymore. Of a world that isn't there, and a me that never was, when in reality, you can't even get yourself to feel anything about them. For them. Stop pretending, Samantha."
She bared her teeth at him. Bloodied gums and sharpened fangs gleamed under the dim light, being reflected into his unchanging pupils. Defiant, yet slightly wavering.
He sighed.
"I have now come to terms with the fact that I can't make you understand. It is simply not my place to do as a father should" he said, standing up with that same unapologetic attitude that crept into her very nerves "But it is in my hands to set an example."
"If you fucking dare--"
"Relax" the man ordered, sending a shockwave through her core with his voice "That would be counter-productive. This child... is still yet useful. Both of them are."
Her mind wandered back to Johnny, and her eye twitched slightly at the realization that she'd completely forgotten about him in her rampage.
Wherever he'd run off to, hopefully he had managed to escape. The kid was smart enough to know when to turn tail and run.
How ironic, that the same thing she'd criticized him for was the culmination of both his salvation and her damnation.
Now wasn't the time to be reminiscing about that, though. With any luck, the pastor would be oblivious to her thoughts on the matter.
"But this... thing you three do, playing with toys while thinking you're some sort of heroes" he interjected, calmly walking back to her for the last time "It must be put an end to. For your own good."
"Fuck you, pendejo de mierda."
"I no longer expect you to understand, as I said. It is not my duty to act as a father would" he said with a sigh, kneeling before her "But as the elder sibling, I must set a good example."
She was about to tell him to go fuck himself with that family bullshit, when a metallic object suddenly came in contact with the roof of her mouth.
The hammer of Silver's .50 caliber revolver clicked into place with a small sound as the pastor once again got to speak in her place.
"As such, please watch and learn as I provide the appropriate punishment for such behavior, in place of the Father."
The last thing she could to was throw him one final spiteful glance before his finger came in contact with the trigger.
Bang! The sound of the first bullet reverberated in her mouth.
Bang! The second one pulsated deeply within her veins.
Bang! The third echoed through her lungs.
Bang! The fourth rippled through her milky eyeballs.
Bang! The fifth ringed far into the distance.
By the time she came to, what remained was only but the shattered pieces of the one person that she'd been desperately clinging to.'
OOC: But it's okay. She'll heal it off.
Dark OC Asks
Excluding murder, what is the worst thing your OC has ever done?
Has your OC ever killed someone?
Has your OC killed a friend/family member/loved one?
What appears in your OC's darkest nightmares?
What is your OC's moral code?
Would your OC make a deal with the devil?
How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?
Would your OC consider themself evil?
Would you consider your OC evil?
Does your OC enjoy watching others suffer?
Has your OC ever tortured someone?
If your OC was arrested, what would the charges be?
Who does your OC hate the most?
What is your OC's "villain song"?
If you draw: draw your OC's darkest moment or reimagine your OC as a demon. If you don't draw: find a picrew or write a description instead!
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Wrong Person (College AU!)
Hockey player!Cregan Stark x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary: Aemond's girlfriend has a group project with the man he hates the most, Cregan Stark.
Warning: abuse, domestic violence, alcohol consumption, implied smut, implied fighting, smoking, angst; characters generations/ages don't quite make sense but basically everyone is 20 in this
Word Count: 4.7k
Masterlist
A/N Hey guys, I know its been a while. Some of you may have figured out I stop posting as much when school picks up but here’s something I’ve been slowly piecing together
Taking a deep breath, I knocked on Aemond’s door. Softly, but not so soft he would miss it. Immediately the door swung open and I was met with Aemond’s eternally neutral expression. I felt my own heart sink as he yet again didn’t greet me with a smile. “Hey,” I greeted shyly, feeling my lips quirk up into a smile despite how disappointed I repeatedly found myself.
“Hey,” he greeted in return, stepping aside to let me through. I walked past him, finding his dorm just as I always did. It was surprisingly clean for a guy’s college dorm but Aemond was pretty tidy. Coming up behind me, he gently lifted my bag off my shoulder, placing it on the desk chair before moving me towards his bed.
I suddenly found myself wishing Criston, his roommate, was here. “Oh I actually need my-”
“What?” Aemond snapped, cutting me off.
I stared up at him for a second, trying to register just how angry he was. Finding no real, threatening anger I decided to answer him. “It’s just, I, uh I have to wrap up something quick for that project. Cregan just-”
Aemond scoffed, rolling his eyes. He walked around me, flopping onto his bed with an annoyed expression. “All I fucking hear is about Cregan fucking Stark and your project. You’ve been doing this project for like two months.”
I found my arms wrapping around myself but stopped. Aemond hated when I did that. “Stop acting like I’m gonna hurt you!” he’d say. “I’m sorry but it’s a semester long project,” I explained for the hundredth time.
“I don’t see why you had to partner with him,” Aemond grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.
“I know, but there were no other seats.” We repeated the same conversation we’ve had dozens of times throughout this semester.
Walking into Tyrell Hall, I checked my phone. One minute until class started. Cursing, I rushed up to the second floor, quickly locating classroom 221B. Entering the room, I let out a huff seeing that every seat was filled. Scanning the room for a glimpse of an open seat, I observed my classmates. I waved to the few I knew, girls from my freshman year residence hall, some people who ran in Aemond’s circle, a few I didn’t know, and then the hockey team. They all sat in the rear corner of the room, with the only seat left being right next to their captain, Cregan Stark. Glancing at the professor, I found her looking at me expectantly so I reluctantly headed to the back of the room, trying to disappear into my hair as I walked past the hockey team.
“Now that we’re all here,” the professor started, “make sure to get to know your desk partner. You’ll be working with them all semester.” Shit.
I looked to my left, finding Cregan already giving me a shit eating grin. “Oh this is gonna be fun,” he smiled, knowing how much Aemond hated the athletes.
Aemond just got quiet, biting his lip as he looked down at his crossed arms. “C’mon, don’t be mad,” I begged, getting up on the bed. I no longer thought about it. We had been through this routine so many times I just acted. I laid on his bed, practically on top of him as I wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest. “I hate it too but it’s only for one semester.”
Aemond huffed, uncrossing his arms so he could lay one across my shoulder, nestling me further into his chest. He didn’t say a word, rather he just looked at me. His expression wasn’t expectant but I knew what he wanted. Pushing my body up, I connected my lips to his. He immediately escalated it, turning so he could place one hand on my jaw, the other on my waist as he moved to be on top of me.
Managing to pull away slightly, I looked up at him, his lips still so close I could feel his labored breath. “Aemond, I want to, I really do,” I tried to keep him from getting mad, “but I have-”
“Is this about your project?” he interrupted me, still so close I could feel the sharpness of his breath as he got angrier.
“No,” I assured quickly. “I have a history assignment. Besides, doesn’t Criston get back from class soon?”
“I don’t care,” he said, brushing his nose against mine. “Here,” he said, leaning over me to his bedside table to grab his phone. He typed out a quick message, only briefly showing it to me before tossing it back onto his bedside table. “You can do your work tomorrow morning before class.” His words phrased as a suggestion but holding the weight of a command. He connected his lips to mine again, wasting no time slipping his hand up my shirt.
~
Sitting in class, I tried my best to ignore Cregan. The first half of class was always dedicated to lecture, with the second half going to working on our project. I was keenly aware of Cregan’s eyes flickering toward me every few moments as well as Aemond’s friends a few rows ahead. I just kept my gaze firmly on my notes and the professor’s slides.
Finally, the professor reached the end of her slides. “Okay, that wraps up today’s lecture. Turn to your partner and continue working on your projects. Remember: you should be submitting an outline to me by Monday.”
As I turned towards Cregan, making sure to keep my hair covering my neck, I caught a glimpse of Aegon’s watchful eye. Remembering Aemond, I turned to Cregan’s wolfish grin, refusing to return it. Undeterred, he leaned closer to me. “Hey, I saw you were working on the doc at five a.m. What were you doing up at that hour?” he asked good-naturedly.
“Oh, I couldn’t get to it last night so I woke up early to work on it,” I shrugged. I tried my best not to dwell on the fact that he had noticed that. And judging by his furrowed brows, I tried to ignore the fact that he was concerned about me. “Why were you up at that hour?” I returned, immediately feeling guilty for engaging him.
Cregan’s smile widened. “I was up for hockey practice and got the notifications. Speaking of which, are you coming to the game tonight?”
I sent him a look. “I think you know the answer to that.”
Cregan’s lips fell into a pout. He actually pouted at me like a dog. “C’mon, I want the girl who’s carrying me through this project there.” I just let out a breathy laugh, trying to dismiss his insistence, but thoughtlessly moved my hair, exposing the hickies Aemond had made a point to leave. Beside me, Cregan’s eyes widened. “Woah,” he exclaimed. I felt embarrassment consume me and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole in that moment as I quickly replaced my hair back where it was. “Wow, someone wants everyone to know you have a boyfriend,” Cregan chuckled.
“Cregan,” I began, ready to tell him off. The mortification must have been written all over my face because his expression morphed into silent sympathy as I looked at him.
He cleared his throat, looking down at his notes for a second before turning his attention to my laptop screen. “So where are we on the outline?” he asked. He looked back up, meeting my gaze and I gave him a soft smile of thanks before returning to the project.
~~
Cregan looked up at the stands full of students. Peering in the student section, he was disappointed but unsurprised to find the stands void of his health sciences partner.
“C’mon man, you had to know she wasn’t coming,” Benjicot Blackwood, Cregan’s best friend, interrupted his thoughts. “You know Aemond would never let her come.”
Cregan shrugged. “He’s not in charge of her. She could come.”
“Cregan,” Benji stopped his best friend, becoming very serious for once. “You know he basically controls her every move right? You had to have noticed. She basically hasn’t talked to anyone except Aemond and his friends since like October last year.”
Cregan stopped to think. Now that he thought about it, he realized that she had used to be one of the most well liked people at the university. But now, she really only had a reputation for being Aemond fucking Targaryen's girlfriend. He couldn’t believe that she of all people even looked at that silver haired prick twice.
Seeing his best friend’s dismay, Benji felt bad knowing that Cregan had had a crush on the girl since he first saw her freshman year. “Hey,” he caught his friend’s attention. “Larys told me Aemond and his little cult are going to Phi Gamma Delta tonight. Even if she isn’t there you could ‘accidentally’ spill some beer on Aemond.”
Cregan sent a mischievous look to his friend, a small smile quirking on his lips.
~
“So where are we going?” I asked Alicent as she curls my hair.
“Phi Gamma Delta,” she explained, putting down the hot wand and spraying hair spray all over me.
“Are the guys coming with us?” I asked, turning to her as she took the curling wand to her own hair.
“Yeah, Harwin is going to let the guys in,” Alicent explained, flawlessly curling her brown locks.
I stood up from her bed, going to my bag to grab my outfit. But as soon as I pulled it out, Alicent turned toward me with wide eyes. “Oh no, I already have something for you to wear so we can match,” she came up with on the spot.
“Thanks but I haven’t gotten to wear this since like first semester sophomore year,” I said, holding up the backless top. I didn’t say the quiet part out loud, I hadn’t worn it since Aemond and I got together.
“Yeah but I’m wearing a long sleeve,” Alicent said, standing up from her desk and holding up her sheer top.
“Another time,” I promised her. Grabbing my clothes, I headed for her bathroom, quickly changing into the top and my black jeans that I had cleaned beer off of so many times.
Entering the room again, Alicent had a slightly sour attitude as she finished off her hair. But I just ignored it, determined to have a good night as I got started on my makeup. Once the both of us were ready, we headed to Aemond’s room where all the guys were waiting for us.
I knocked, being louder this time so as to overcome the music that was already blasting. The door swung open, revealing Criston. “Hey!” he greeted the two of us excitedly. “The girls are here,” he announced to the very crowded dorm room.
Aemond pushed his way to the front of the room, a beer fueled smile on his face. But it dropped as soon as he saw me. My heart immediately sunk seeing his expression but he just grabbed my arm, dragging me into the dorm somewhat harshly. Before I could even speak, he was already barking orders at me. “Go grab a drink, I’ll talk to you in a second,” he spat. Disheartened and slightly scared, I went over to Criston’s desk which was lined with booze.
Aemond turned his attention to Alicent, seething. “I thought she was wearing that one long sleeve top,” he growled.
“I’m sorry, I tried to make her take it but she wouldn’t,” she defended. “I could’ve told her it was you insisting she wear it,” she threw back with a quirked brow.
Aemond just sent her a glare before going back to his girlfriend. “Hey,” he greeted, an arm slipping around my waist to bring me to face him. “Look, I’m sorry I got mad earlier its just… this top,” he said, tugging at the fabric, “is… well its basically a rectangle of fabric held together by one string,” he explained. His fingers now finding the back of my top, tugging at the string to where it almost came untied to make his point.
I averted my eyes, gaze flickered down, shame coursing through me. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I loved this top.”
“I know, baby. And I’m not trying to control what you wear just, keep close to me tonight. Not all the guys there will respect you,” he said, giving another tug to the string of my top before stepping away towards his friends.
Feeling slightly disoriented and embarrassed, I headed to the bathroom in order to fix the top before returning to the pregame, trying to forget the earlier conversation with cheap booze.
After a few more moments, Aemond had declared that it was time for us to all go to the frat. As we all headed over, Aemond had his arm slung across my shoulder. By the time we reached the house, I was shivering thanks to all my exposed skin, and slightly wishing I had listened to Alicent.
As soon as we entered, Alicent grabbed my hand, dragging me to the dance floor as the DJ started to play Super Bass. It wasn’t long after we had been jumping around on the dance floor that Aemond found me again, moving to stand behind me with one hand around my waist and the other holding a beer.
After a couple songs, I felt Aemond’s fingers tap on my hip before his lips came up behind my ear. “I’m gonna go out back for a smoke. Be safe,” he advised before taking his leave, a few of the guys following him upstairs out of the basement.
I just turned back to Alicent who seemed to relieved to not have anyone hovering around her so she could let loose. I laughed as her dancing became more wild and sloppy. That was until her eyes went wide and she was looking at the staircase leading out of the basement. Confused, I turned to find the entire hockey team filling the stairway, with Cregan Stark standing at the top of the staircase.
He looked around for a moment as he descended the stairs, before his eyes settled on me and a smile broke across his face. It was as if Aemond’s training kicked in or something because I had the sudden urge to go find him but something in me kept me firmly rooted to the ground. Maybe it was the beer and god knows what other sticky substances keeping my shoes on the floor of this frat basement.
Either way, it was too late to leave because Cregan was pushing his way through the crowd towards me until he towered over me. The dancing bodies of other students being no match for his hulking frame. He stooped down, bringing his lips closer to my ear. “Hi,” he greeted, pulling away with a bright smile.
“Hi,” I returned, not even bothering to try to reach up to reach his ear.
“Where’s your owner?” he asked sarcastically.
I sent him a look when he pulled away. He just laughed, bringing his lips to my ear again. “I kid. But seriously, I’m surprised he’s not attached to your hip making sure someone like me isn’t talking to you,” he teased.
This time he didn’t immediately stand up, allowing me to talk in his ear to answer. “He’s in the backyard. He’ll be out soon,” I answered.
“Well then I guess I have to make due with the time I have,” Cregan smiled. Before I could protest, his hand found mine, tugging me towards him. His grip was tight enough to move me, but not so tight that I couldn’t slip out if I wanted to.
I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help but move with Cregan, finding laughs building in my chest as I watched him dance. We were having a good time until all of a sudden Cregan got a serious expression on his face, standing straight up and looking toward the staircase. I didn’t even have time to follow his gaze before he grabbed my arm tugging me behind him.
“Hey! Wha-” I began to protest as I was whirled around but the words died in my throat as I realized why Cregan had gotten serious.
Currently pushing through the crowd was a murderous looking Aemond. Rather than rush to calm him like I probably should, I found myself cowering behind the hockey captain, clinging to his arm. “Stark!” Aemond barked across the crowded room, so loud everyone managed to hear it. “What the hell are you doing with my girlfriend?” he spat, getting in Cregan’s face.
“Nothing, we were just dancing,” he answered coolly. “Then you came down here looking like you wanted to murder someone.”
Aemond rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe don’t dance with another guy’s girlfriend next time.” He turned his gaze to me, holding out his hand expectantly. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
The fear coursing through me was screaming at me to take his hand but something wouldn’t let my body move. Cregan sent a glance back towards me before turning to Aemond. “She doesn’t wanna go with you.”
“Stay out of this,” Aemond seethed. “This is none of your business.” He then looked at me expectantly again. “We’re going,” he spat.
By now the music had died down and everyone was looking at us. Glancing around, I saw both the hockey team and Aemond’s friends coming towards us, prepared to back up their guys. “Nah, I’m not letting her go with you,” Cregan declared. “Not until you calm down.”
That just seemed to ignite a fury in Aemond. “She’s my girlfriend, Stark,” he spat through gritted teeth. “She’s perfectly fine with me and I sure as hell am not leaving my girlfriend with any of you,” he nodded to the hockey team.
“Then why does she look terrified of you right now?” Benji interjected.
“Shut up, Blackwood,” Criston spat.
All of the guys started arguing, yelling at the others to shut up. Still behind Cregan, I snapped my head behind me as I felt a gentle hand brush against mine. Turning, I found Rhaenyra looking at me with a concerned, gentle look. I just stared at her for a moment before Alicent’s voice brought me back to the conflict.
“Enough!” she got in between Cregan and Aemond. “I’m taking her back to her dorm unless all of you,” she pointed at the guys on both sides, “want to leave.”
There were some grumbles but no one protested. “I’ll go with her too,” Rhaenyra offered.
Not letting the boys fight it out even more, I spoke up. “Yeah, we’re going home,” I agreed. Stepping away from Cregan, I shakily approached Aemond. He was looking at me like I had committed some serious sin against him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered softly. I tried to move past him but he grabbed my waist, pulling me into an aggressive kiss. I could taste the beer and smoke on his lips as he forced his lips into mine. And I had a sneaking suspicion his eyes were locked onto Cregan’s.
When he released me, I let out a shuddered breath as his hand rested on my hip. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow,” his voice was grave. But his hand came off my waist, as if giving me permission to walk away.
Nothing was really said as I left the frat with Alicent and Rhaenyra on my heels. They both tried to ask me multiple times if I was okay, to which I just nodded in agreement. My mind was too consumed playing out what had just happened. But as soon as we were within ten minutes of my dorm, I stopped walking and turned to the two girls behind me. “I’m good here if you guys wanna head home or back to the party. I appreciate you coming with me but I think I just need to be alone right now.”
They both sent each other a glance. “We’re not letting you walk alone at night,” Rhaenyra protested.
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted.
They both looked at each other reluctantly before looking toward me. “Okay but, call someone if you start to feel freaked out,” Alicent said.
“I will,” I agreed, before turning on my heel and walking away.
Immediately, I pulled out my phone, afraid to see what was on there. Opening it, I was first confronted with a text from Cregan.
Hey sorry about tn If he tries anything with you let me know and I’ll handle it
My heart melted reading his messages. I wanted to cry at how sweet he had been lately, mostly because Aemond had been anything but.
Going to our messages, I found nothing. I didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. I’m sure my refusal to move would come up some way or another.
I swiped out of my messages with Aemond, going back to Cregan. Reluctantly, I held down on the message until the option to delete it popped up. My finger hesitated over the delete button before I hit it. Just like I had deleted all his flirty texts. Leaving nothing but the texts about our project.
~
The next morning, I was woken up by incessant banging on my door. Glancing quickly at the clock, I saw that it read eight a.m. Rushing to the door, I opened it without checking who it was because deep down, I already knew.
As the door flew open I immediately took a step back, finding Aemond practically glowing with fury. “What the hell was that last night?” he spat, storming into my room.
I backed up as he entered, the door slamming shut behind him. For the first time, I cursed the fact that my roommate went home every weekend. “Aemond, I’m-”
My words were cut off as he lunged forward, his hand coming to close around my throat. “You’re what?” he spat. “Sorry? Sorry for humiliating me? Making me look like an awful person?” But I hardly heard a word, too busy trying to process the fact that he had actually grabbed me by the throat and was choking me. But it seemed my silence angered him more as his fist became tighter and he pressed me up against the wall. My vision was beginning to fade as he crushed my windpipe even tighter. “You cowered away from your boyfriend behind Cregan fucking Stark! Do you know how that makes me look? This,” he said, referring to his hand around my throat, “is because of you. You make me out to be some abuser, fine. It can be that way,” he spat before dragging me to the floor.
I coughed and sputtered as I hit the ground. Hard. “I’m sorry,” I managed to gasp out through tears and desperate gulps of air. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Aemond stood over me, bending down to get in my face. “You’re damn right you weren’t thinking straight. I’ll see you Monday and you better have fixed this attitude by then,” he said before marching out of my room.
~
That entire weekend I just flipped between numbly trying to wrap my head around what happened and sobbing violently. Every time I caught a glimpse of my bruised neck in the mirror—Aemond’s fingers clearly marked in my skin—or thought about the feeling of his hand around my throat.
I stood in the bathroom, my skin blotchy from the tears and black and blue covering my neck. I had only just managed to start being able to look at myself without immediately dissolving into sobs when my phone rang. Hesitantly, I picked it up, finding Cregan’s name scrawled across my screen. After another moment of hesitation, I answered the call. “Hello?” I answered, immediately cringing at the hoarseness of my voice.
“Hey,” Cregan’s voice came over the phone, his concern apparent. “Are you okay?” His heart was racing as he heard the scratchiness in her voice.
I hesitated for a moment, trying to clear my throat but it was no use. Between the choking and nearly two days worth of sobbing, my voice was fried. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“No you’re not, I’m coming over,” Cregan informed, already getting up from his bed.
“Cregan,” I began to protest.
“You’re still in Benjen Hall 514, right?” Cregan asked.
I opened my mouth to protest but the words wouldn’t fall. So instead, I gave a reluctant confirmation.
“I’ll be over in five.”
I hung up the phone, going over to my bed and slinking onto it. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I should try to clean myself up and hide the hand print on my neck. But if I hod it, what life was I resigning myself to?
I didn’t have much time to act because there was a knock at my door. I found myself rushing to open the door, despite my resistance to being seen by anyone. But either way, I opened the door, quickly ushering Cregan inside before letting it shut again, once again hiding Aemond’s act from the world.
After observing my room for a moment, Cregan turned to me. “So what’s wrong?” he asked.
I realized I was looking at the ground, effectively hiding my face and neck. After a second of hesitation, I looked up, letting him see the bruises and tear stains. His eyes widened, his jaw even dropping as he saw my state. He just stared at me for a moment before he spoke hesitantly. “Did- did Aemond do that?” he asked, horror lacing his voice. I only nodded reluctantly.
I watched the shock turn to sympathy, to hurt, to finally anger. His jaw locked and his fists curled as he took a step away from me. “That little-” he couldn’t even finish his insult he was so angry. “Did you get my text? Why didn’t you call?”
“I-” I began but I was cut off my my cringe at the sound of my own voice. “I don’t know. The past few days have just been a blur.”
Cregan stepped towards me. I flinched as he came towards me to which he immediately stopped. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he swore. He took another hesitant step forward until he was gently grasping my shoulders. “I am however, gonna beat the shit out of that deadbeat boyfriend of yours. Or should I say, ex-boyfriend.”
“Cregan,” I began, my hands finding his chest. “I-” I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. I just broke down into sobs as I fell into his chest. In response, he just hugged me tightly, running his fingers through my hair.
“Hey, it’ll be okay,” he hushed me. “I swear I’ll be right back.”
~~
Cregan cringed as he knocked on room 514. His knuckles were bloody but he didn’t care. Immediately the door swung open, revealing his health sciences partner. She immediately threw herself into his arms, much to the hockey player’s joy. He hugged her tighter as her legs came to wrap around his hips. Entering the threshold of the room, he let the door fall shut behind him as her feet fell back down onto the ground. “No one’s ever gonna hurt you again,” Cregan swore, his forehead resting against hers. “I promise you.”
Masterlist
#x reader#game of thrones#game of thrones x reader#got#got x reader#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x reader#hotd#hotd x reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan x reader#cregan stark x female reader#cregan stark#cregan#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#modern au#college au#modern!cregan stark#modern!aemond
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Boxer!Sukuna loves to show off his moves to his crush aka his best friend (feat. Boxer!Toji)
Notes: sukuna is a jealous little hoe, Toji finds reader attractive, Pre-relationship, fem!reader (she/her), depictions of fighting so read at your own discretion. Uraume is a nonchalant baddie. Not proofread, I’m sorry for torturing you all.
Thump!
A gloved fist lands against Sukuna’s tattooed cheek as he stumbles back into the boxing ring’s roped borders.
He quickly flicks off the sweat dripping down from his nose to his upper lips and gets back into fighting stance. His opponent / friend, Toji Fushiguro, smirks at him as he bounces in his spot, bracing for what’s to come.
“You’re boring me here, Ryomen!” The raven haired man barked from the opposite end of the ring. “Quit fightin’ like a pissy little boy and hit me like a man!” He further taunted his opponent.
Sukuna leaped from his spot and swung his arm only for Toji to dodge him with a duck and attack his legs.
“Fuck!” Sukuna yelled out as he fell down. His body bounced against the ground, force acting against him.
“Time out!” Coach Yaga yelled out. Toji removed his gloves and took off his helmet, lending out a helping hand to Sukuna.
Sukuna stared at Toji’s calloused hands and back at him. His glare deepened with every heavy breath he took.
He could not stop thinking about the conversation he had with Toji in the gym locker room a few days ago.
“She your girl?” Toji asked as he applied another heat patch to his sore shoulder.
“Who?” Sukuna asked while he packed his gym bag.
“The girl you came in with today. You know, the one who wouldn’t stop talking.” Toji chuckled as he said that. Sukuna’s eyes momentarily flickered away from Toji has he remembered how you were going off on a tangent about your favorite show.
“Nah, why do you wanna know?”
“I wanna take her out.” Sukuna’s hand froze after hearing Toji’s answer.
It never occurred to Sukuna that other men wanted to talk to you. He always thought that he was the only man in your life even if there wasn’t anything romantic between you two.
But then again, Sukuna had made it his mission to drive away any man that even showed a shred of romantic attention towards you. It was easy for him since he was a well known boxer that could probably smash concrete with one punch if he tried.
It was his favorite thing about being so strong.
However, it wasn’t going to work in this case. Not when his opponent was on par with him.
“You don’t get it, man. She’s not that kinda girl. She’s the relationship type and you hate all that commitment stuff.”
“I wouldn’t ask to date your friend if I wanted to leave her high and dry. I’m ready to do all that redemption shit now. I wanna get serious.”
Sukuna’s blood boiled at the thought of Toji even looking in your direction. What made him think that you would even say yes? You had hardly ever said three sentences to the man (the sentences being “hi, Toji,” “bye, Toji,” and “where’s sukuna?”)
But he also knew what Toji was like in the ring. A relentless fighter that was always ready to improve where he lacked. And he also knew what you were like.
All he could do was hope that you’d reject Toji.
“Do whatever you want. Fuck do I care about?” Sukuna shoved in his shower gel in his bag and stomped out of the room.
He pushed Toji’s hand away and walked out the ring to hydrate himself. Toji mumbled a quick “asshole” before heading out towards his water bottle right outside the fight room.
“You were exceptionally bad today. I believe there must be something emotionally affecting you.” His manager (more like henchman), Uraume said as they handed him a bottle of sugar free Gatorade.
“Fuck off.” Sukuna tiredly said as his leaned back into the leather couch facing the ring. The spotlights above him burned his retinas but his mind kept him distracted with thoughts about you.
The way you laughed at his banter with Uraume, the way you’d comfort him after lost matches, the way you’d stare at him with your arms crossed when he’d forget to text you.
Like you were doing now.
“Some nerve of you to leave me on read last night.” You huffed out in anger. Sukuna immediately sat up, rubbing his eyes. You were definitely real and standing in front of him.
You looked positively adorable with a pout on your face and your foot tapping angrily on the ground. If Sukuna didn’t have any self control, his lips would’ve been planted on yours right now.
“You said you’d bring me to the gym to watch your practice match and then forgot to tell me when your match was!”
You were lucky to have Uraume’s number and contacted them to get to the gym yourself.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ll make it up-“
“Hey, nice to see you.” Toji sauntered around you, interrupting Sukuna. “This creep giving you any trouble?” Toji sneered with his hands on his hips.
“Yes, in fact, he promised that I could watch today’s match but didn’t even bother picking me up.” You complained to Toji, who was towering above you.
Sukuna could practically see Toji’s blood rush to his ears. The man was smitten and it irritated him to see that.
“Toji, get the fuck out of here. We’re having a private conversation.”
“She literally aired your dirty laundry in front of me, man. There was no privacy to begin with.” You let out a small laugh at Toji’s response and he proudly beamed in your direction.
Sukuna was going to further defend himself, stating that it was a conversation between best friends but Coach Yaga was quick to swoop in with smacks to both the boxers’ heads to resume their match.
The men went towards the ring, ducking under the ropes as they entered. Sukuna needed your eyes on him no matter what. So he did what he thought was best- take his compression tank off.
His chest gleamed with sweat as he threw the piece of clothing out the ring. The tank accidentally landed on Uraume’s face and their body began to shudder in anger. You grimaced at the sight as you used your pointer finger and thumb to pluck off the sweaty garment from their head.
Sukuna’s face turned red out of embarrassment
“Sorry, dude.” Great, he was supposed to look sexy but he ended up making a fool of himself.
“You know what? keep fighting like a little kid. I wanna make sure I win in front of the pretty lady before I ask her out.” Toji whispered in Sukuna’s ear before he wore his mouth guard.
The tattooed man was seething. There were so many emotions affecting him at the same time- anger, jealousy, sadness, and insecurity.
But then all of that was erased when he saw you intently looking at him while you stood next to an irritated Uraume. Not to mention, you were still holding his sweaty compression tank like it wasn’t something that would disgust any other person.
Sukuna wasn’t feeling as defeated as anymore. In fact, there was a new surge of energy in him when he saw you standing outside the ring with hopeful eyes.
He had an advantage over Toji because right now, the one you were rooting for was him. Not his green eyed opponent.
You were here to see him win. You were here to see your man- okay, best friend who’s a man, win.
And he wasn’t going to disappoint you.
Coach Yaga blew his whistle and both men began walking in circles, eyes staring into one another’s to predict their opponent’s next move.
Sukuna remembered to always wait for the opponent to make the first blow so he could dodge them. This way, he’d be able to expend their energy and use their one second of being distracted to his advantage.
Toji did exactly as he predicted and he countered his punch with a hit to his chin. You gasped and Sukuna could see you smile in his peripheral view (maybe he was imagining it but whatever. To him, you were smiling while he punched Toji).
Toji growled as his body moved backwards but he got back into position quickly and charged at Sukuna with a punch but Sukuna crossed his arms to dodge the blow. He wanted to hit but needed an in somehow. He began to think long and hard as he dodged Toji’s incoming punches.
His eyes momentarily landed on you and he couldn’t help but think about Toji kissing you after your date, his non-tattooed, muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Your breasts pushed against his chest as you gasped for air.
He imagined Toji taking you home, sleeping in the same bed as you. Patting your head as you fall asleep.
Sukuna could not let that happen. As selfish as he was, he could not let his sparring mate take away the one thing that mattered most in his life- you.
He landed punch after punch to Toji’s ribs and you excitedly clapped at the sight. The sound of your hands only further fueled Sukuna’s fury as he continued to batter Toji.
The fight went on for a quite a while, neither fighter giving in to losing. But by now, Toji had been punched the most and was beginning to lose his balance.
Coach Yaga’s shrill whistle squeaked and the match stopped before Toji could be rendered immobile. You wanted to feel bad for the man when you saw all the bruises on his face and body but you could help but smile when you looked at Sukuna. He wasn’t smiling but the look on his face showed he was satisfied.
Sukuna turned to find you smiling and he mirrored your expression.
Yeah, there was no way he was going to let you go. He was going to win every fight against Toji whether if it was in ring or for your heart.
-•-
I’m just adding lore to Sukuna and Toji’s rivalry in both boxing and pursuing the reader.
#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#sukuna ryoumen x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#sukuna smut#jjk sukuna#sukuna x reader#jujutsu sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#jjk ryomen#ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen smut#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#jjk suggestive#toji fushiguro imagine#toji fushiguro x reader#fushiguro toji#toji x you#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji fluff
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Nights Like This: Part Three
Roman x black!oc
Warnings: language, angst
Word count: 1.4k
a/n: guys are we riding at dawn or not lmaoo??? if i forgot to tag you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list please feel free to lmk 💕
“Tell me what?”
Serena and Roman froze, which angered Zoe to another level, because it’s one thing to screw her over, but its another to play in her fucking face.
Roman turned towards Serena,“Give us some space…” His voice was stern, more of a demand than a request. Serena briefly looked at Zoe and sighed, she proceeded to grab her keys and walk outside.
“Where the fuck is she going, you both seemed to have a lot to say.” Zoe started walking towards the door to confront Serena, but as she was about to reach the door her movements were halted when Roman grabbed her by the waist gently pulling her back.
“Baby we need to talk, just you and me please…” he pleaded. Seconds later she heard a car engine start. This bitch really had the audacity to leave without saying a word.
“Oh so now you want to fucking talk? Because you damn sure didn’t have shit to say before I found the condoms,” Zoe sneered as she yanked her body away from him.
Roman paused and took a deep breath, slowly rubbing his hand over his beard, “Baby I fucked up, I’m sorry...”
“You’re sorry, is that really all you have to say?” Her voice cracked, she could feel her throat begin to tighten.
Roman felt like the biggest piece of shit. Seeing the exhaustion and pain in her eyes, hurt him. He hated to see her cry, let alone being the reason behind it. There was no excuse for what he did, and he knew it. Which is exactly why he didn’t want to tell her, but actions have consequences. He made his bed, it was time to fucking lie in it.
“Baby I—” As he began to speak Zoe cut him off, “Roman I’m gonna ask you this one time. Did you or did you not, cheat on me with Serena?”
Roman lowered his head, his gaze now shifted towards the floor. He paused in silence for a short moment, she could see his hands were slightly fidgeting. Roman briefly looked up at her, still avoiding making eye contact.
“Yes,” his voice was barely above a whisper.
Zoe’s heart felt like it was ripped out of her chest. She knew the answer, but she wanted him to have the balls to actually fucking say it. Tears that she had been fighting back started to roll down her face, sobs escaping her. “Fuck you, Roman.” She started to walk away, but was stopped when Roman walked in front of her stopping her in her tracks.
“Zo don’t leave, please just talk to me.”
“You’re such a piece of shit, I fucking trusted you. She wiped away some of her tears, which was of no use considering she couldn’t stop crying, “My best friend? Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve only met her a handful of times!” she yelled.
“I want you to tell me why, you wanted to talk, so fucking talk,” she hissed.
Roman’s eyes were glistened with tears, his shoulders were slumped as he inhaled a deep breath, “I—I came to her to help me plan our trip and your birthday dinner. I figured since I don't know shit when it comes to throwing parties, I’d hire someone who not only works in that profession, but someone who would know what you’d like.”
“Yeah it seems she ended up finding exactly what I liked,” she scoffed.
Roman put his head down, his voice getting lower, “I ended coming over at different times over the span of two months to approve some of the planning details. Little by little I noticed she was flirting more than usual, in the beginning I tried to ignore it, but over time I—I began to like the attention.”
Zoe felt sick to her stomach, she listened quietly while angrily wiping away her tears. She wanted to leave to avoid hearing this bullshit, but a part of her wanted to know why. Why would two people who claimed to love her, hurt her in the most disrespectful way possible.
Seeing Zoe silently crying made the pit of Roman’s stomach drop, he was disgusted with himself. How in the hell did he let something so stupid, jeopardize what he had? He loves Zoe, he couldn’t give two fucks about Serena. Yet, he let a moment of weakness ruin everything and hurt the one person he loved more than anyone.
He walked towards her, and gently lifted her face. “Baby, please look at me,” Zoe refused, and that fucking killed him.
“I don’t need all the details, just tell me what happened...” her lower lip was slightly trembling. She pushed him away, making sure to keep a distance between them.
“Before my last visit, I let my ego cloud my judgment. I went to the store, bought the condoms and headed over to her house.” Roman paused, he was internally struggling to say the rest, but he knew he had to, he owed her that. “We kissed, and she ended up giving me head.”
“Let me guess, you returned the favor?” Silence. Just as she expected. “Of course you did because you’re such a generous tribal chief, right?”
He took a deep breath, his chin dipping to his chest. “I went with the intention to fuck her Zo, I did. And I know that there’s no amount of apologies in the world that will change what I did, but I need you to know that I didn’t fuck her.”
“So you’re telling me the condom unwrapped itself?”
“I was going to fuck her baby, I was. But when the time came, I thought of you, and I just— I just couldn’t do that to you.”
Roman walked towards her, gently moving some of her hair out of her face, he wiped some of her tears away with his thumb. He felt a sharp pang of guilt seeing her so broken, the weight of what he did was fully sinking in his chest.
“Baby please look at me.”
She doesn’t know why she actually did, but she felt so numb as if nothing even really mattered anymore. She looked at his big brown eyes, eyes that she once viewed with love and admiration, she now saw with despair.
A few tears slipped down his face. “Zoe please understand that she means absolutely fucking nothing to me. I love you baby. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I lied to you, I’m sorry that I hurt you—”
“If it was me that did this to you, how would you feel?”
He sighed heavily, facing down. He couldn’t even say a word. What a fucking hypocrite.
“You knew all the bullshit that I went through with my ex, and you went and did this shit. I opened up to you, and you promised me you would never do what he did to me. I feel so fucking stupid to have actually believed you. The fact that you wouldn’t have told me shit had I not caught you makes me sick to my stomach. You want to know what I think Roman? I think you’re a fucking coward.”
Zoe grabbed her keys and headed towards the door. She didn’t care about leaving her things behind, that slut seemed to like her leftovers anyways.
“Zo, please don’t do this to me,” he pleaded. Every single emotion that she tried to hold in was released, she was crying uncontrollably. She ignored him and was able to get in her car.
“You did this to yourself. You don’t have to worry about me anymore Roman, you and Serena can go fuck yourselves.”
Zoe started driving home, but the farther she got the more her anger built. She pulled over at a store to park and try to compose herself, she was so mad her hands were trembling. The memory of Serena letting her cry on her shoulder while being the actual cause of her tears, and leaving without even trying to apologize made her even more pissed. Fuck this. She put her gps back on Serena’s address, enough is enough. The only thing on her mind right now, was beating this bitch’s ass.
#roman reigns#the tribal chief#otc#roman reigns fic#roman reigns x black reader#roman reigns x black!oc#roman reigns x oc#roman reigns fanfiction
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track six - i can still make the whole place shimmer
series masterlist
JAPAN 2023
QATAR 2023
ines_alonso and charles_leclerc posted to close friends
so proud of you oscarpiastri, sucks that i can't be there with you the only way to celebrate a third championship and a maiden sprint win. this can only go wrong from here monopoly has been cancelled after someone nearly broke the table when he got beat
CHARLES' BIRTHDAY
ines_alonso and oscarpiastri posted new stories
he actually liked this cake, don't listen to whatever oscar has to say birthday boy 🥳🩷 an artist at work...i actually don't know what's she's trying to make
oscarpiastri and ines_alonso posted new stories
inés said we were on a time crunch, now i've lost her inside a flower shop and she's not answering her phone. send help. sos. birthday boy seems to have something devious planned second birthday cake was a success!!!
liked by charles_leclerc, isahernaez, pedri and others
ines_alonso feliz cumpleaños amorcito!! here's to spending more by your side (with osc of course) for many more years 🩷🎉
tagged: charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc oh mon soleil, i might start crying again. please don't do this to me.
oscarpiastri you'll cry regardless charlie charles_leclerc stop being mean to me, it's my birthday oscarpiastri i got you a cake, that's enough user01 their love language is bullying each other
user02 had to sneak oscar in there somehow
user03 inés loves both her boys. i'm convinced she will never shut up about them user02 i fear you may be right bestie
oscarpiastri happy birthday booger 🧡
charles_leclerc thank you stinker ❤️ pedri i will never understand how this dynamic works arthur_leclerc mate it's been years and i still don't understand it. half the time i'm convinced they hate each other. oscarpiastri it's our love language arthur, leave us alone.
isahernaez feliz cumple charlie 🎉
charles_leclerc gracias isa 😊 user04 brother lost even his ex-girlfriend in the divorce to charles user05 not only is he not winning races but he's also not winning life, shit must suck for him. user06 he just became the only non redbull winner of the entire season, put some respect on his name louieee bitch won the race at the sacrifice of his own teammate, we'll put respect on his name when he fucking earns it. user07 besides this post is about charles, not his fucking whiny ass teammate
user08 i want to know what the product of that picture charles was taking in slide 2
user09 he's the embodiment of that proud boyfriend meme user10 he's just a silly little goofy guy
fernandoalo_oficial feliz cumpleaños to that french guy or whatever
charles_leclerc you sent me an entire paragraph telling me happy birthday this morning you're not fooling anyone fernandoalo_oficial that was supposed to be a secret tonto charles_leclerc oops
jensonbutton HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLES!! 🎉🎉 YOU'RE SO OLD NOW!!
charles_leclerc THANK YOU OLD MAN!! user11 the difference between fernando and jenson's comments is so fucking funny to me
maxverstappen1 drinks are on the birthday boy this weekend
charles_leclerc you people are animals when you drink. i should be getting free drinks not the other way around alex_albon well for my birthday i was forced to pay, so you should have to pay this weekend charles_leclerc this a hate crime against me
user12 i can't believe charles is 26, it feels like just yesterday he was starting out as a rookie at sauber
user13 STOP! YOU'RE MAKING ME FEEL OLD!! user12 your bio says you're 16? how the fuck does that make you feel old?? user13 IT JUST DOES OKAY?! DON'T QUESTION ME!
patriciooward FELIZ CUMPLE CABRON!!
charles_leclerc GRACIAS PATITO!! user14 i've seen enough scuderriaferrari get this guy into your car as carlos' replacement. he speaks spanish too user15 and charles actually likes this one
ximena.gomez feliz cumpleaños charlie!!
charles_leclerc gracias ximena! inés said to ask you about the thing ximena.gomez the answer is still no charles_leclerc one chance, just one chance that's all she asks
TEXAS 2023
liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, francesca.cgomes and others
ines_alonso there's no weekend like austin gp weekend (this message was paid for by daniel ricciardo) (p.s. please wear your fucking boots right. the jeans go on the outside not tucked inside the boots)
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francesca.cgomes you know what they say, save horse ride a cowgirl
ines_alonso yeehaw!! charles_leclerc please stop flirting with her oscarpiastri you're never beating the allegations ines_alonso WHAT ALLEGATIONS?? francesca.cgomes that the boys are a cover up for our super secret romance. ines_alonso oh that, no, that is true pierregasly STOP THIS MADNESS!!
user16 how i love women
charles_leclerc i feel like this is directed towards me...
ines_alonso that outfit is atrocious and i never want to be in your presence when you wear it. justice for andrea. charles_leclerc OSCAR SAID IT LOOKED GOOD! ines_alsonso OSCAR WEARS T-SHIRTS AND SHORTS AND CALLS IT A DAY, NEVER LISTEN TO HIM maxverstappen1 mate, i'm afraid oscar lied to you oscarpiastri i live to see him make an embarrassment of himself in public. charles_leclerc you're sleeping on the couch when we get home alex_albon that's an upgrade from when your drunk ass made him sleep on a piece of turf on your balcony last year landonorris why the fuck am i never invited to anything? first it was the group bowling and now this party? danielricciardo he-who-shall-not-be-named is your friend louieee because you're a snitch bitch that's why asshole logansargeant in their defense the party was before bowling and no one wants to party with peter pettigrew or lord voldemort user17 the harry potter references i'm dying
user18 so are we supposed to act like you didn't embarrass yourself in front of patrick dempsey?
ines_alonso if we could do that, that would be great thanks user18 oh girl, that's going to haunt you for the rest of your life.
danielricciardo thank you inés i'll be venmoing you $150 later today
ines_alonso pleasure doing business with you mr.ricciardo logansargeant he's actually paying you?? he told me i would get a shoutout on his .jpg account ines_alonso i'm his favorite logan, you should know this logansargeant doesn't mean i should like it
jensonbutton i had a blast this weekend, i enjoyed watching you lose your shit on danica patrick this weekend.
ines_alonso you're ass is such a shitstirrer, i'm telling my dad! jensonbutton he sent me an audio of him cackling for a straight 3 minutes. his ass enjoyed that too user18 this is my favorite daughter and step-father duo user19 jenson button is not a step father but the father that stepped UP
lilymhe the cutest cowgirl ever
ines_alonso oh stop it, i'm actually blushing oscarpiastri unfortunately she is actually blushing. charles is glaring at her from across the room lilymhe damn charles_leclerc i took your girl charles_leclerc fight me lily alex_albon come get your girlfriend she's being irrational again alex_albon mate, we are not having this debate ever again. they're in love, let them be. charles_leclerc you're literally no fucking help
user20 love how inés, kika, and lily flirt with each other to piss off the boys
user21 alex is just resigned to the fact that they do this, charles and pierre absolutely lose it every time, meanwhile oscar just lets them have fun to see charles lose it everytime. user22 inés and oscar live for tormenting charles and i love that user20 it's the difference between gen z's born in the 00's to the 90's is so noticeable between the three of them.
MEXICO 2023
BRAZIL 2023
liked by lilymhe, kellypiquet, patriciooward and others
ines_alonso a little photo dump for the girlies as we head into the final race of the triple header
tagged: charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, alex_albon, lilymhe
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patriciooward nano and honey make a reappearance!!
louieee she's kept them hidden from us for too long ines_alonoso they're camera shy
alex_albon i've missed my godchild nano!!
maxverstappen1 that's my godchild albon! ines_alonso ladies, please, you're both nano's god father alex_albon um, i'm more qualified to take nano if a 'tragic' accident were to happen to any of you maxverstappen1 i have two cats alex, you have a fucking farm, we are not doing this. ines_alonso i've made a horrible mistake
charles_leclerc where's the picture of my mexico podium??
oscarpiastri maybe win a race then she'll post you charles_leclerc you won a sprint! not an actual race! oscarpiastri I STILL WON!
arthur_leclerc i see there's no mention of me taking that 6th picture?? where is my credit alonso??
ines_alonso we bought you dinner and yet you still found a way to complain about taking one picture arthur_leclerc you try fourth-wheeling you, dumb, and dumber louieee it's dumb, dumber, and dumbest maxverstappen1 wait but who's who? oscarpiastri charles is clearly dumbest charles_leclerc this is why people think you hate me oscarpiastri haven't you heard, we're the second coming of seb and mark. multi-21 2.0 incoming alex_albon it was very clearly multi-21 (lovers edition) oscar user23 mark is probably shitting himself seeing this comment oscarpiastri i can confirm that
user24 just a pretty girl with her pretty boyfriends
user25 how to get inés alonso to blush 101 ines_alonso wrong! it's how to get three idiots to blush
kellypiquet i see the picture of the broken table didn't make it to the photo dump
ines_alonso we're never playing monopoly again maxverstappen1 if someone hadn't cheated the table would've never broke! georgerussell63 I DIDN'T CHEAT, YOU JUST SUCK! alex_albon YEAH, TELL HIM GEORGE! user26 i feel like we're missing some important lore here pierregasly post championship and sprint win monopoly is great, until someone (max) breaks the table patriciooward don't forget to specify that it's drunk monopoly alex_albon i feel like i would remember if you were there? patriciooward oh, i wasn't there in person but i was there via facetime. all of you were so fucked up that you don't even remember it
user27 i don't know what's more surprising max breaking a table, george cheating (allegedly) at monopoly, or all of them ending up so drunk they don't remember anything besides a broken table??
user28 definitely the broken table. user29 yeah, the drunkenness is expected from them so is george facing cheating allegations in monopoly.
fernandoalo_oficial i did not give my consent to having that picture posted
ines_alonso too bad old man. you snooze, you lose. user30 the world may be calm (not really) but you can count on inés and fernando always being their chaotic selves
logansargeant this is logan sargeant erasure
ines_alonso oh sorry, the whole world must know i bought you a single shot after your point in austin logansargeant well now i feel bad because it came at the expense of lewis... charles_leclerc what about me?! i'm the reason you got the point! logansargeant you said you wouldn't watch hamilton with me again... charles_leclerc fine, we can watch hamilton again logansargeant 😄😄 user31 a duo i didn't know i needed
danielricciardo is that the picture max and i took when you fell asleep?
ines_alonso yes, i'm never leaving my phone unattended with you two maxverstappen1 that's a consequence that comes with flying airmax, deal with it baby alonso louieee BABY ALONSO!!! ines_alonso oh no, that's going to stick isn't it?? estebanocon they've been calling you baby alonso behind your back for years. jensonbutton we've been calling you baby alonso since 2015 ines_alonso oh my god
lilymhe thank you for beautifully capturing my relationship with alex
ines_alonso you're welcome my love 🩷 alex_albon i'm right here lilymhe shhh alex, it's okay, you're my one and only (sometimes) alex_albon WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?! ines_alonso it means that whenever you piss her off she runs to me and kika francesca.cgomes it's true, we kick oscar and charles out of the apartment and force them to spend the night with pierre alex_albon STOP MAKING ME SEEM LIKE A BAD BOYFRIEND! ines_alonso you're a good boyfriend alex, we're just teasing. (got to get ahead of the media)
VEGAS 2023
liked by sabrinacarpenter, louieee, alex_albon and others
ines_alonso a week spent in los angeles and las vegas. met some new friends and hung out with some old friends
tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, sabrinacarpenter, schecoperez, logansargeant, alex_albon, lilymhe, jensonbutton, joris__trouche
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maxverstappen1 where the fuck am i?
ines_alonso bitch, you won every race this season, let other people have a chance maxverstappen1 YOU HAVE CHECO ON HERE!! schecoperez me odias o qué? maxverstappen1 no, do not put words in my mouth checo!
user32 ariana (sabrina) what are you doing here?
user33 talk about an unexpected crossover user34 the most unexpected friendship to come out of the 2023 season
louieee ooh, we look so cute
ines_alonso yeah we do!! louieee 🩷🎀
charles_leclerc i'm still mad at you...
oscarpiastri maybe you shouldn't go around telling us to call you charles leclerc-verstappen maxverstappen1 well now i'm max leclerc-verstappen redbullracing max, we can't do this again, the rumors just stopped oscarpiastri i know where you live scuderiaferrari here we go again (the rumors never stopped) mclaren oscar, please refrain from threatening fellow drivers user35 they're just so tired of having to pr train oscar user36 we're talking about the kid who willingly admitted he pushed inés off the track when they were karting because they had a bet going on and he didn't want to lose
sabrinacarpenter it was a delight to meet you and sharles
ines_alonso enough to get a nonsense outro?? sabrinacarpenter woah, take me out on a date first ines_alonso name a time and place baby 😏 charles_leclerc i can fight... oscarpiastri i can laugh as you take charles down... sabrinacarpenter oscar's my favorite now charles_leclerc of course he is
jensonbutton WHERE DID YOU GET THAT PICTURE??
ines_alonso it's a screenshot from the sky sports broadcast. it's the face i make whenever i'm forced to work with that woman jensonbutton oh my god ines_alonso it's my favorite f1 meme now
charles_leclerc now that i'm no longer upset, you look beautiful ma belle 🩷
ines_alonso thank you bebe ❤️ user37 he's trying to get back in her good graces guys oscarpiastri ass kisser charles_leclerc YOU WON'T LET ME GET A DOG alex_albon jeez oscar, let the guy get a dog oscarpiastri HE'S THE ONE WHO SAID NO MORE PETS AFTER HONEY!
logansargeant LET'S GO!! I'M OUT OF THE TRENCHES!!
patriciooward FROM THE TRENCHES WE RISE!! user38 now this, this is my favorite duo inés alonso has given us
lilymhe i look great and alex is there
francesca.cgomes she's everything and he's just ken ines_alonso the realest comment here sabrinacarpenter girls who are everything and boyfriends who are just ken pierregasly our job is just car
joris__trouche he did not want to let go of mimi
ines_alonso he genuinely cried when we left charles_leclerc STOP EXPOSING ME!! oscarpiastri you called me sobbing because you were leaving mimi behind maxverstappen1 just get him a dog oscar oscarpiastri he dug his own grave max
user39 the random jenson meme is sending me
user40 the fact that both of them have pulled the same face while working with d*nica user41 they're further proving the buttlonso lovechild allegations because i feel like fernando has also pulled the same face. user39 oh my god you're so right
francesca.cgomes just a pretty girl living her best life
ines_alonso i'm blushing oscarpiastri can confirm she is blushing charles_leclerc i'm so done. user42 free my guy user42 not from the relationship but from his partners (inés) flirting with the girls (kika, lily, sabrina) user43 nah, my guy brought this onto himself by flirting with max verstappen at every single fucking opportunity liked by ines_alonso and oscarpiastri
¡taglist!
@minmira95 // @lesliiieeeee // @vroomvroommuppett // @prongsvault // @justtprachisblog // @scuderiadevils // @cataf1 // @chezmardybum // @formulaal // @lilsiz // @norstappenvibes // @ironspdy // @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica // @niniluvsainz // @matchaverse // @fakeikeastore // @theseus-jpg // @six-call // @81folklore // @emppusofi // @luvsforme // @nichmeddar // @loloekie // @luvpedro // @donttouchthegnote // @nothaqks // @inferiusreggie // @mochimommy2002 // @rach3164 // @clove08 // @clove0 // @lillysbigwilly // @jenxjar // @blupblupfish // @thereadinggremlin05 // @meowiarty // @magical-spit // @camdensreg // @laneyspaulding19 // @ocyeanicc // @yelenasloverrrrr // @percervall // @blushmimi // @spilled-coffee-cup // @greantii // @ietss // @yeanoskrrt // @brakingboundaries
¡not taggable!
@ashlovestoread1411 // @books-thingys-andstuff // @ale-522 // @aandreea_2005 // @Katness1 // @mgmoore // @Scott-McCall-could-lift-mjolnir // @xxx-betty // @ririyulife // @landonorizzz // @moldyshorts1997 // @itstimeforutogo // @yar16 // @em-andemm // @killjoycra // @◇Heart- Trees◇ //@michelleyw81
¡leclerc-s speaks!
unfortunately with the current state of the us, this is my only escape. i don't know why it became so unhinged but i remember people joking about max and charles getting married and this is a fanfic so i thought, why the fuck not?? IT'S ALL JOKES PEOPLE!!
¡disclaimer!
this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
#leclerc-s#guilty as sin series#f1 instagram au#f1 x oc#f1 oc#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1#formula one#f1 fic#formula 1 fic#f1 x female oc#charles leclerc x female oc#oscar piastri x female oc
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